"No; only hot, and, and—a little frightened."
"Frightened? My dear child, what do you mean?"
"I don't know, auntie. I woke up, and kept thinking of dreadful things," sobbed Gem, burying her head in the pillows. Aunt Faith saw that the child was trembling violently, and, sitting down on the edge of the bed, she drew the little form into her motherly arms, and soothed her as she would have soothed a baby. "Come into my room, dear," she said; "you are tired and excited after this busy day. I have not slept, either, and I shall be glad to have you go with me."
So the two went, back across the hall, Gem clinging to her aunt, and glancing fearfully around, as though she expected to see some ghostly object in every well-known corner. When she had crept into her bed, however, she felt more safe, and nestled down with a deep sigh of relief. After some conversation on various subjects, Aunt Faith said: "And now, my little girl, you must tell me what frightened you. I have always thought you a brave child. What was it you fancied?"
"Oh, I don't know, auntie; all kinds of things. Ghosts, and everything."
"Gem, you know very well there are no such things as ghosts."
"Really and truly, Aunt Faith?" asked Gem, in a low tone.
"Certainly not. I am surprised that you have any such ideas. Where did you get them?"
"I have heard the girls talking about them, sometimes, in the kitchen.
They believe in them, Aunt Faith."
"That is because they are ignorant, my dear. Ignorant people believe a great many things that are false. You know there are no fairies, Gem? You know there is no such person as Santa Claus, don't you?"