“What in the world is the matter?” Marian demanded.
“Nothing, just nerves,” she said, forcing a smile, but she did not attempt to study after that. She went and curled up in a huge, upholstered rocker. Even here she did not fall asleep, but sat staring wide-eyed before her until it was bedtime.
They had all been in their berths for fifteen minutes. Florence had dozed off when she was suddenly wakened by a hand on her arm. It was Lucile.
“Please—please!” she whispered. “I can’t sleep alone to-night.”
Florence put out a strong hand and drew her up into the berth, then pulled the covers down over them both and clasped her gently in her arms.
Lucile did not move for some time. She had apparently fallen asleep when she suddenly started violently and whispered hoarsely:
“No! No! It can’t be; I—I don’t believe in ghosts.”
At the same time a great shudder shot through her frame.
“Tell me about it,” whispered Florence, holding her tight.
Then, in halting, whispered sentences, Lucile told of the night’s adventure.