“But, Doro, what of the fire?”
“They don’t use that chimney. They use the one on the other side of the house, and the one in the kitchen.”
CHAPTER VII
REAL GHOSTS
“That explains the basket!” exclaimed Dorothy, suddenly.
“How can they do it!” Mabel giggled excitedly.
“They can’t,” Dorothy replied, calmly, “they’ll simply get in a mess—soot and things, you know.”
“Let’s run. I’m too excited to breathe! I know something dreadful is bound to happen!” And Mabel clutched Dorothy’s arm.
“And leave the boys to their fate? No, indeed, we’ll see the prank through, since we walked into it,” Dorothy said, determinedly.
Mabel laughed nervously, and looked at Dorothy in puzzled impatience. “I always believe in running while there’s time,” she explained.
Music, sweet and low, floated out on the still, cold air of the night, and the wedding guests, in trailing gowns of silver and lace and soft satins, stood in laughing groups, all eyes turned toward the broad staircase.