The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1868-11-06

ss.Eosnight. I whispered, and,
Ilooking round me quiclSly, shudder-
Fed. We were sTanufne on the hearth
before the blazing hf6, on the very
ispot where that awful ot-atep would
pass and repass through the long,
dark, unhappy hours, after our lights
had been extingnisl. ed ed, and cur heads
laid upon our pillows. e7z IS
Ada laughed at me and called me q
little goose, but 1 could see that she
was wild with curiosity, and eager
for bedtime to arrive. I had ar
ranged that we should both occupy
my room, in order that, if there was
anything to be heard, Ada might
hear It. :And now, what is all this
that I have to learn?" sold she, after
our door had been fastened for tho
night, and we sat looking at one an
other, with our drcssing-gown upon
our shoulders.
AS I had expected, long ringing
laugh greeted the recital of my dole
full tale. "My dear Lucy!" cried
Ada, "my poor sick little moped
Lucy, you surely don't mean to say
that you believe in such vulgar things
as ghosts?"
| '5'But I cannot help it," said. Il
have heard the foot-step no less than
seven times, and the proof of it is
that / am i'll. If you were to sleep
alone in this room every night for
month, you would get sick, too"
"Not bit of it, said Ada, stoutly;
and she sprang up and walked about
the chamber. "To think of getting
discontented with this pretty room,
this exquisite little nest! No, en-
gage to sleep here every night for q
month-alone, if you please at
the end of that time, shall not only
be still in perfect health. my unro-
mantle self, but l promise to have
cured you, you little, absurd, ina
ginative thing! And now let us 20
to bed, without another word on the
subject. 'Talkingit it over, in q case of
this kind, always does vast amount
of mischief"
Ada always meant what she said.
In half an hour we were both in bed,
without further word being spoken
on the matter. So strengthened and
re-assured was [ by her strong, hap
Ply presence, that, wearied out by the
excitement of the day, 1 was quickly
fast asleep. It was early next morn-
ing when L wakened again, and the
red, frosty sun was rising above the
trees. When L opened my eyes, the
first object they met was Ada, sitting
In the window, with her forehead
against the pane, and her hands
locked In her lap. She was very pale,
and her brows were knit in perplexed
thought. had never seen her look
so strangely before.
A swift thought struck me. I
started up, and cried, 80 Ada! for
give me for going to sleep 80 soon.
know you have heard it.
She un.nit her brows, rose from,
her seat, and came and sat down on
the bed beside me. 'I cannot deny
it," she said gravely; 81 have heard
1t. Now tell me, Lucy, does your
aunt know anything of this?"
II am not sure" said; "I cannot
be, because 1 am afraid to ask her.
rather think that she has heard some
OF the stories, and is anxiously try
ing to hide them from me, little
thinking of what I had suffered here.
She has been very dull lately, and re-
pines constantly about the purchase
of the old house"
"Well," said Ada, "we must tell
her nothing till We have sifted this
matter to the bottom"
"Why, what are you going to do?"
L asked, beginning to tremble.
Nothing very dreadful, little
coward" she said, laughing; "only
to follow the ghost if it passes our
door tonight; I want to see what
stuff it is made of. If it be genuine
spirit, it is time the Thatched House
were vacated for its more complete
accommodation. If it be flesh and
blood, it is time the trick were found
out"
| L gazed at Ada with feelings OF
mingled reverence and admiration.
1t was in vain that 1 tried to dissuade
her from her wild purpose. She bade
me hold my tongue, get up and dress
and think no more about ghosts till
bedtime. I tried to be obedient
and all that day we kept strict silence
on the dreadful subject, while our
tongues and hands and (seemingly)
our heads were kent buailv Occupied