“Stolen, I think,” said I. “I set it day before yesterday, and when I went to look to it it was gone.”
“An’ will ye be givin’ me the wages?” said Biddy, “afore I bid ye good-marnin’?”
“Going?” asked my sister, in astonishment.
“An’ sure I am,” answered Biddy. “Ye don’t think I’d be afther stayin’ in a house that’s haunted, do ye?”
In a few minutes I heard the front door bang, and, looking out, saw our late domestic, with a budget on each arm, trudging off as though her ideas were of a very lively character.
A colored woman, recently from the South, took Biddy’s place that very day, and was assigned the same room in which the latter had slept.
We had invited company for that evening, and some of the guests remained to a very late hour.
The sound of voices subsided as one after another departed, and we were left quietly chatting with the few who remained. Suddenly there was a mysterious movement at one of the back parlor doors, and we saw two white eyes casting furtive glances into the room.
“What’s wanted?” demanded my sister, of the object at the door.