"What on earth do you want?" she asked, with the irritability intimate friends use toward each other without meaning really to be cross.
"The queerest thing has happened. The library is perfectly black dark."
"I don't think there is anything specially remarkable about that. The fire had burned low before we left and I suppose one of the maids put out the lamps. The Japs are nothing if not economical."
"They are nothing if not polite, too," argued Nancy. "And I am sure they wouldn't put out the lights before the company left. Besides, they are all listening to Elinor sing."
"Well, the lights are out and I don't see that it matters much,
Nancy-Bell. Let's go back and hear the rest of the song."
"Won't you come with me first to get my handkerchief?" pleaded Nancy. "I know exactly where I left it, and I am afraid to go alone, if you want to know the real truth."
"Oh, you little coward," laughed Billie good-naturedly, taking her arm.
"Come along, then."
The two young girls hastened down the long hall until they reached the passage.
"Billie," whispered Nancy, pausing at the door. "You won't think me silly if I tell you this? Of course it may have been imagination, but I was awfully frightened when I came in here just now. I opened the door suddenly and ran into the room before I realized it was dark. Then, of course, I stopped short. The door had closed behind me and it seemed to me that some one else was in the room. I remembered that as I opened the door I heard some one move or collide with a chair. I stood perfectly still for an instant. I was really frightened. Then I just flew."
"Perhaps it was one of the servants who had put out the lights and was afraid to acknowledge it," suggested Billie. "The little maids are as timid as wild things."