"Well, now if there'd been anything real there, anything material, you'd have seen it; and if it wasn't material, how could it be wet?"
Faithful was not prepared to answer, but it was evident that she had received a great shock. In vain did her sister argue, reason and coax. She could not explain, but that something had come behind her, and that this Something had touched her, she was convinced; and she added: "I do believe it was John I saw the other night. I thought then I was awake all the time, and now I know I was."
This last assertion quite overset Miss Sophonisba's patience, "If ever any one was asleep," she said, "you were when I came up stairs. I thought I heard you walking about with your bare feet, and I came up to see."
"Then you: heard it too?" said Miss Faithful, eagerly.
It was an unlucky admission, but Miss Sophonisba would not allow that she had made it.
"I heard the wind make the boards creak, I suppose; and do you think John wouldn't have more sense than to be walking about our room at half-past ten at night? What nonsense!"
"You may call it nonsense as much as you like, Sophonisba," said Miss Faithful, beginning to cry afresh, "but I know what I know, and I can't help it."
"Well, well, dear, we won't think of it any more. You're nervous and worried, and you'd just best put on your wrapper and lie down and try to go to sleep."
"I don't like to stay alone just now," said Miss Faithful, timidly.
"I don't want you to: I'll bring my work up stairs and stay with you."