Mrs. Bosanquet groped her way back to consciousness to find the room full of lamplight, and the rest of the family gathered solicitously about her. Someone had laid her upon the sofa, someone else was bathing her forehead with water, while a third held a bottle of smelling-salts to her nose. She opened her eyes, and looked up, blankly at first, into Celia's concerned face. She heard a voice saying: "It's all right: she's coming round," and by degrees her recollection came back to her. She opened her eyes again, and struggled up into a sitting posture, unceremoniously thrusting aside the smelling bottle and the brandy that Margaret was trying to give her. "Where is it?" she demanded, looking round her suspiciously.
"Where is what, Aunt Lilian?" Celia said soothingly. "Are you feeling better now?"
"I am perfectly well. No, my dear child, I never touch spirits. Where did it go? Did you see it?"
Celia patted her hand. "No, dear, we didn't see anything. I woke up, hearing you scream, and when we got downstairs we found you had fainted. Did you feel ill in the night, Aunt, or what?"
"I came to get a book and a biscuit," Mrs. Bosanquet replied. "Was there no one but myself in the room?"
"Why no, darling, how should there be? Did you think you saw someone?"
"Think!" said Mrs. Bosanquet indignantly. "Do you suppose I should scream for help merely because I thought I saw someone? I did see it, as plainly as I can see you."
Charles came forward, ousting his wife from her place by the invalid's side. "What did you see, Aunt Lilian?" he asked. "Do you feel well enough to tell us about it?"
"Certainly I am well enough to tell you," she said. "My dears, it is all perfectly true, and I am not ashamed to own that I have been wrong. The house is haunted, and the first thing to be done in the morning is to summon the Vicar."
Celia gave a gasp of horror, and clasped her brother's arm nervously. "Oh, what have you seen?" she cried.