“And the Bat ye were talking of just then—he’s harmless too, I suppose?” said Lizzie with mournful satire. “Oh, Miss Neily, Miss Neily—do let’s go back to the city before he flies away with us all!”
“Nonsense, Lizzie,” said Miss Cornelia again, but this time less firmly. Her face grew serious. “If I thought for an instant that there was any real possibility of our being in danger here—” she said slowly. “But—oh, look at the map, Lizzie! The Bat has been flying in this district—that’s true enough—but he hasn’t come within ten miles of us yet!”
“What’s ten miles to the Bat?” the obdurate Lizzie sighed. “And what of the letter ye had when ye first moved in here? The Fleming house is unhealthy for strangers, it said. Leave it while ye can.”
“Some silly boy or some crank.” Miss Cornelia’s voice was firm. “I never pay any attention to anonymous letters.”
“And there’s a funny-lookin’ letter this mornin’, down at the bottom of the pile—” persisted Lizzie. “It looked like the other one. I’d half a mind to throw it away before you saw it!”
“Now, Lizzie, that’s quite enough!” Miss Cornelia had the Van Gorder manner on now. “I don’t care to discuss your ridiculous fears any further. Where is Miss Dale?”
Lizzie assumed an attitude of prim rebuff, “Miss Dale’s gone into the city, ma’am.”
“Gone into the city?”
“Yes, ma’am. She got a telephone call this morning, early—long distance it was. I don’t know who it was called her.”
“Lizzie! You didn’t listen?”