Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/384

374, looking kindly at her. "Not like yourself. What is the matter?"

She did not answer, and the old lady looked at her inquiringly. She loved this orphan girl as she would have loved her own daughter—and, indeed, one day she hoped she would be one in truth.

"She is tired," she said. "You must go to bed soon, dearie."

"Miss Marlow has the haunted room, has she not?" Beatrix said; and as she spoke the door opened, and Miss Marlow entered. Beatrix felt glad she had overheard her.

"Oh, please, not the haunted room!" the visitor cried; then, laughing with them, continued, "Of course, I do not really mind."

"It is all nonsense about the haunted room," the old lady told her. "There was never heard nor seen such a thing as a ghost in the house."

After a few chaffing words on the subject of ghosts and their doings, the little party broke up for the night, Beatrix going to her room first. She was really ill and tired. She flung herself on the bed, listening to the parting words and laughter of the others left below; and the