Dotty sighed as she pictured to herself Percy's conscience-stricken face.
"And that girl that called me a bad sister—how she'll feel! And Johnny—I guess Johnny won't say 'cross party' any more!
"Grandma—why, grandma'll read the Bible. And O, such a time!
"That Angeline girl will remember how she rocked that darling Dotty, and told me stories."
Dotty was seized with a sudden shivering. The stories came back to her mind vividly. If Angeline had told her simple little tales of every-day life, Dotty might have forgotten them; but, like all children, she had an active imagination, and anything marvellous or horrible made a deep impression.
The current of her thoughts was changed as soon as she remembered those unknown ghosts of Angeline's description.
"All white, wrapped in a sheet. Put a knife through, and they don't know it. No blood, no bones, no anything. Go through a keyhole. Will they, though? Prudy don't believe it. Am I anywhere near a keyhole? I don't know. I've gone and hid, and I can't find myself. I'm somewhere, but I don't know where."
Dotty began to feel very uncomfortable. There was no longer the slightest satisfaction in the thought of frightening the family. She was frightened herself, and with the worst kind of fear—the fear of the supernatural.
"I can't see the leastest thing, and I can't hear anything, either. Ghosts don't make any noise. May be there are some in this house: been locked up, and the man didn't know it."
The silence seemed to grow deeper. Dotty could hear her heart beat.