“I don’t know,” replied the servant. “She’s all of a fluster. We’re at sixes and sevens here this mornin’. The ghosts walked last night.”
“What ghosts?” asked Mary Louise, trying to repress a smile.
“You know. Elsie’s told you about ’em. The spirits that wanders through this house at night, mussin’ up things. They had a party all over the downstairs last night.”
“Hannah!” exclaimed Jane. “You know that isn’t possible. If there was a disturbance, it was caused by human beings. Burglars.”
The woman shook her head.
“You don’t know nuthin’ about it! If it was burglars, why wasn’t somethin’ stolen?”
“Wasn’t anything stolen?” demanded Mary Louise incredulously. “Not Miss Grant’s bonds?”
“Nope. They’re all there—safe. Pictures was taken down—old pictures that must-a belonged to the spirits when they was alive. That old desk in the corner of the dinin’ room—the one that belonged to Miss Mattie’s father—was rummaged through, and all the closets was upset. But nuthin’s missin’!”
“It looks as if somebody were searching for a will,” remarked Jane. “You know—‘the lost will’ you so often read about.”
“There ain’t no will in this house,” Hannah stated. “Miss Mattie give hers to Mr. John Grant to keep, long ago. No, ma’am, it ain’t nateral what’s goin’ on here, and William and I are movin’ out——”