“Are there any books in the living room?” the elderly woman inquired. The girl shook her head. “There are shelves, but the books have been removed.”
There was a sudden brightening of the deeply sunken eyes. “I recall now,” the older woman said, “the books were packed in a box and taken up to the loft. Suppose you go up there and select any book that you would like to read.”
For one panicky moment Dories felt that she must refuse to go alone to that loft room which she believed was haunted. She had never been up there without Nann.
“Well, are you going?” The inquiry was not impatient, but it was puzzled. “Yes, Aunt Jane, I’ll go at once.” There was nothing for the girl to do but go. Taking the key from its place in the kitchen, she began to ascend the outdoor stairway. How she did wish that she were as fearless as Nann.
The door opened when the key turned, and Dories stood looking about her as though she half believed that someone would appear, either from under the bed or from behind the curtains that sheltered one corner.
There was no sound, and, moreover, the loft room was flooded with sunlight. The box, holding the books, was readily found. Dories approached it, lifted the cover and was about to search for an interesting title when a mouse leaped out, scattering gnawed bits of paper. Seizing the book on top, Dories fled.
“What is the matter?” her aunt inquired when, almost breathless, the girl entered her room.
“Oh—I—I thought it was—but it wasn’t—it was only a mouse.”
“Of course it was only a mouse,” Miss Moore said. “I sincerely hope that a niece of mine is not a coward.”
“I hope not, Aunt Jane.” Then the girl for the first time glanced at the book she held. The title was “Famous Ghost Stories of England and Ireland.”