"LISTEN!" SAID MOLLY, "THERE IS THE GHOST AGAIN."
"O, I durs'n't, miss!" exclaims Jane, dropping a whole bundle of parcels as Molly glances in her direction; "ghost or no ghost, I durs'n't go a-nigh the attics while that knocking is going on. O, my gracious, Miss Honor—there it is again! I shall drop with fright, my legs is that trembling!"
And suiting the action to the word, Jane, regardless of appearances, subsides in a sitting posture on the top of the hamper which the cat has lately vacated.
"Hush—h!" cries Molly theatrically, and secretly enjoying the girl's discomfiture; "he's dragging something about up there! Perhaps it is the old arm-chair of his deceased great-grandmother, or possibly his own coffin—" But here Honor interposes, seeing signs of a further collapse in Jane's frightened face, and frowningly signing to Molly she says:
"Nonsense! how can you both be so silly? It is probably some workmen still attending to something at the top of the house. I'll call out and see." And mounting a few steps she calls loudly: "Is anyone up there?"
"No!" answers a ringing voice from the attic regions. "Half a second, Honor, and I'll be down; I'm just finishing."
"Finishing!" echoes Molly, puckering up her eyebrows; "what in the name of goodness is Hugh finishing here? Let us go and see. Jane can come too if she likes."
But that young person prefers to remain where she is, deeming perhaps that her greater safety lies in proximity to the man who is still unloading the heavily-laden fly.