“I hope, Mrs. Tarnley, I’m not keeping you from your tea?”
“No, I thank ye, ma’am. I’ve ’ad my tea an hour agone,” answered the old woman.
“And you must sit down, Mrs. Tarnley,” urged Alice.
“I’ll stand, if ye please, ma’am,” said the withered figure perversely.
“I should be so much happier if you would sit down, Mildred,” urged her young mistress; “but if you prefer it—I only mean that whatever is most comfortable to you you should do. I wanted so much to hear something about this old house. You remember what happened when I was coming upstairs with you—when I was so startled.”
“I didn’t see it, miss—ma’am. I only heard you say summat,” answered Mildred Tarnley.
“Oh, yes, I know; but you spoke to-day of a warning, and you looked when it happened as if you had heard of it before.”
The old woman raised her chin, and with her hands folded together made another courtesy, which mutually seemed to say—
“If you have anything to ask, ask it.”
“Do you remember,” inquired Alice, “having ever heard of anything strange being seen at that passage near the head of the stairs?”