On going to the drawing-room the host and hostess were greeted by a tall, spare person in deep mourning, who remarked, in sepulchral tones, “We have come to see you on a matter of great importance.” There was a little sound from the second visitor. Was it a laugh or a cough? This shorter individual wore a long cloak, while a black veil was tied closely over the face.
While Mr. Holmes was bowing politely and Mrs. Holmes was waiting expectantly for further remark, suddenly every light went out, and when the gas was relighted not a sign of the guests could be seen, but a chorus of unearthly groans and shrieks proceeded from no one knew where, to the terror of Mellicent, who cried, “Oh, mamma, what is it?”
Again the gas went out, and the groans and wails seemed directly in their ears. Then in the darkness three white figures glimmered ghostly, but a second relighting showed no one there.
“This is really uncanny!” ejaculated Lisa.
“My dear,” said grandma, who was smoothing Mellicent’s golden head and calming the little girl’s fears, “don’t you know it is only those witchy children?”
“I’ll warrant Persis is at the bottom of it,” cried Lisa. “She was so down on the boys coming, and here she is the very first one to get them into mischief.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said a voice, plaintively. “You’re always blaming me for everything.” And Lisa turned, astonished to see Persis curled up in an arm-chair by the bay-window, as if she had been taking a nap there.
“Why, where did you come from?” And Lisa gave utterance to her question in tones of astonishment. “I know you haven’t been there all this time.”
“How do you know? Can you take your oath on it?”
“I don’t take oaths; but I haven’t the least recollection of seeing you since dinner, when you were playing with the boys in the hall.”