“Nothing but a sough of the wind.”
“Oh, I thought it was the sob of a woman. I thought it was her sob. Oh, my dear, for the Lord’s sake, drop the subject,” pleaded the old woman.
“I will drop it this instant if you will promise to tell me all you know some day soon,” whispered Wynnette.
“Yes, yes, I promise. Let a Sunday and a church service come between this night and the story, and I will tell you on Monday,” said the housekeeper, whom Wynnette’s persistence had brought to a state of great nervous excitement.
The young girl then arose and bade the old woman good-night, and returned to the drawing room, where she found all the family circle about to separate and retire.
Wynnette went to the room which she shared with her eldest sister.
Odalite got ready and went to bed.
“Have you done with the light?” inquired Wynnette.
“Yes. Why?” inquired the elder sister.
“Because I want to turn it down low.”