"That's hid from us," answered Mrs Shivers solemnly, "by the merciful workings of Providence." "It's never seen after it crosses the Kennet?" resumed Mr Sweet. "No one ever _stops_ to see it," replied Mrs Shivers; "everyone's too scared. Why," (in a lowered voice), "the last gal as was here she _met_ it as she was going with a message to the rectory. She jest turned and rushed back to the house, and come into the kitchen in vi'lent 'isterricks." "Very natural," said Mr Sweet approvingly. "Now, what does the curate think on it?" "Oh, he jest laughs," said Mrs Shivers rather contemptuously. "You know his way. But Mrs Roy, I can see she's timid about it, though she won't hear it talked on. She's afraid this new gal will get frightened away like the other." At this moment, when Biddy's ears were strained to the utmost, and her eyes had grown large and round with horror, her mistress's voice calling her from the other side of the house roused her with a guilty shock. She recovered herself as well as she could and went hurriedly away, but the knowledge which she took with her destroyed her peace of mind for many a day. Things hitherto familiar and friendly now became full of terror, and the comfort of her life was gone. Even her own shadow, cast by the flickering fire and dancing in grotesque shape on the ceiling, made her shudder; and when at night she peered timidly out of her lattice, and saw the row of elms standing dark against the sky at the end of the field, she shook with fear. Turning hastily from this to the shelter of the bed-clothes she would find no refuge, but a place full of restless fancies; for now, instead of dropping at once into a dreamless slumber, she remained broad awake and seemed to hear fragments of the ghost story over and over again. The "old Truslow," the flapping ears, the terrible adventure of the last nurse-girl chased each other through her poor little worried mind and would not be forgotten. Crazy Sall's words came back to her, and she heard her repeat mockingly: "You don't sleep much at nights, I reckon?" Biddy became very miserable, for even sunshine and the baby in her arms were powerless to drive away those dark fancies entirely, though they then became easier to bear. It was not only the consciousness of knowing about the ghost, but to know it _alone_ and not to talk of it to anyone! That was doubly dreadful. Sometimes she thought she must tell her mistress or Mrs Shivers, but then she remembered she would also have to confess her disobedience. She could not do that, for Mrs Roy would never trust her again, and perhaps send her away. What would mother say then? A good place and seven pounds a year lost! It was impossible to risk it.