"Jewel, what is it?" he exclaimed, putting his arm around her gently, and looking down at her convulsed face.
He saw that her eyes were fixed upon a door in the rear end of the conservatory, and his glance hastily followed her strained and startled one.
As he did so, a blast of keen, cold, wintery air swept through the warm, odorous conservatory. The rear door was open, and upon its threshold, very clearly outlined against the blackness of the outer night, there was standing a slight, girlish figure all in white.
A swift shudder crept along the veins of Laurie Meredith.
The figure he was gazing at was all in misty, yet luminous white, that fell from neck to feet in a loose, graceful fashion. The face was not quite clear in the dim light, but it seemed to be of mortal paleness, while all around it fell long waves of golden hair.
Laurie Meredith gazed in wonder and awe at that strange, unearthly looking figure, while Jewel shuddered and moaned, faintly:
"You see it, do you not, Laurie—the awful spirit form? Oh, this old house is haunted! I have seen the ghosts more than once, but I would not speak lest no one would believe me. But, oh, you can not guess what I have suffered, and, dear, I shall be so glad when I am married and gone from this dismal, haunted abode!"
Jewel had seen the ghost so often that her nerves were steeled against it, and she turned it to account by this clever hint to Laurie to hasten their marriage.
Both were looking intently at the luminous figure in the open door. It moved slightly and threw up one arm in a theatrical gesture, and Laurie Meredith uttered an exclamation:
"A ghost, Jewel! But I do not believe in ghosts!"