Paulina opened it a crack and looked out with the expression of “who wants me now?”
“May I come in, Paulina?” softly asked Jannet. “I just want to see you a minute.”
Paulina hesitated, but was taken by surprise and had no good excuse ready. “Well, come in, then,” she said, rather ungraciously, opening the door widely enough for Jannet to enter.
“I’ll not stay but a few minutes, Paulina, if you are busy. I suspect that you are glad to get to yourself after a day of looking after other people.” Jannet helped herself to a chair, a straight one as uncompromising as Paulina looked. But Jannet’s introduction implied some appreciation of Paulina’s work, and Paulina’s face relaxed a little from its stoniness.
Jannet kept right on, not looking around Paulina’s bedroom, though she could see how clean and plain it was, just like Paulina. “I haven’t had any chance to talk with you, Paulina, about things; and as I am going to make my home here, there are some things that are important, you know, like whether my dear room is safe or not and everything like that. You know that I didn’t enjoy that last queer time a bit. There was some one in my room, Paulina. Ghosts don’t pull comforters off from beds.”
“That is just what our ghost does.”
“Honest, Paulina?”
“Your own mother told me that once, but I never knew of its being done to any one since I have been working for the family and that is many a long year. Your mother knew something about the history.”
Paulina was sitting back in her one rocking chair, her arms folded, her face almost expressing enjoyment. Good. Jannet felt that she had struck the right vein,—to come asking about ghosts rather than announcing disbelief too decidedly.
“What did mother tell you, Paulina?”