“Come into the library, quick, Auntie; I’ve found the little ghost,” he whispered. Aunt Polly followed, her knees trembling beneath her. Seeing the little figure in the chair, she started for the door, but thought better of it, and ventured nearer. Getting a good look at the ghost, she saw it was Dolores, and sank limply down by her on her knees.
“Well, well, well, I declare for it, it’s the hand of the Lord,” she whispered.
“Who is she, Aunt Polly, and where’d she come from?”
“She belongs to this fambly, Mistah Tom, and I’ll tell you by and by whar she come from; but whar she got them clothes, or how she got in here, is more than I can tell you.”
Just then Dolores stirred in her sleep, opened her eyes, and seeing them watching her, jumped to her feet.
“Is this Mr. Tom? I am the little ghost-girl, and I bring you good fortune;” and she looked up into his face and laughed.
Aunt Polly grunted, “You need a good lambastin’ fo’ skeerin’ me so,” she said wrathfully.
Not long after, Dolores and Aunt Polly went to live with Mr. Tom. A wrong was righted, and the little ghost-girl walked no more.
IV.
TITANIA’S MAID OF HONOR.
