“I tried to. But she wouldn’t listen. She accused me of going through her trunk. But I wasn’t punished, because nothing was stolen.”
“Then it couldn’t have been a robber,” said Mary Louise. “Or something would have been taken. Wasn’t there anything else in the house missing?”
“Not a thing! Hannah even counted the silver and found it was all there.”
“How does Hannah account for it? Or does she think, like your aunt, that you did it?” questioned Mary Louise.
“Hannah says it was ‘spirits.’ She says the spirits can’t rest as long as their old things are around. She wants Aunt Mattie to burn or give away all the old clothing in the house. She says dead people’s clothes are possessed.”
Jane let out a peal of laughter, but Mary Louise warned her to be quiet. “We mustn’t get Elsie into trouble,” she explained.
“Was that the only time anything like that ever happened?” asked Jane.
“No. Once, earlier in the spring, when Hannah and William were away at some lodge supper, their room was entered and searched. I was blamed and punished then, though nothing was missing that time, either. But the awful part of it is: I expect it to happen again every night. Every time the wind howls or a branch beats against a windowpane, I’m sure they’re coming again—whoever they are. And—I’m afraid!”
“Something’s got to be done!” announced Mary Louise, with determination. “I’m not my father’s daughter if I allow a mysterious outrage like this to go on.” She pressed Elsie’s hand. “You can count on us,” she concluded. “We’ll be back to see you tomorrow!”