“Goodness!” gasped May. “Nobody ever got near enough to him to let him touch her! I should say not!”
“And why should he haunt that boathouse?” was Nan’s further demand.
“Oh! we don’t know that.”
“Ever been a murder committed there?”
“Why! how you talk! A murder at Lakeview Hall? The idea!”
“All the ghosts I ever heard of were supposed to be the disembodied spirits either of persons who met with some catastrophe, or who committed a capital crime. They usually haunt the spot where the tragedy occurred. Now, my dear, what did this poor, black ghost do in life that he has to haunt that boathouse?”
“Oh, you can laugh!” exclaimed May, rather offended. “But if you ever see the ghost you won’t be so light-minded about it.”
And, oddly enough, May Winslow was a true prophet in this case; but Nan Sherwood, at the time, only laughed.
She and Bess, on the morning following their arrival at the school, went down to the trunk room to get their possessions. Mrs. Cupp abrogated to herself the right of search for, and seizure of, all contraband goods brought to the school by the pupils. The trunks must be unpacked under her eye—and a watchful eye it was!
Many a foolish or unwise mother allowed her daughter to wear garments or articles of adornment that Mrs. Cupp did not approve. And, as has before been said, at Lakeview Hall Mrs. Cupp’s will was law.