Mrs. Belah, or Aunt Noby, as every one called her, was a gentle old lady who had not outgrown an ancient belief in witches, signs, charms, and ghosts. She had had signs that very morning which indicated that she was to have strange visitors, so she was not in the least surprised when the two girls arrived. There was a horseshoe nailed above the door to keep off witches, for “there do be witches,” she said. As for ghosts, was there not a haunted house on the very next island? Every one knew that mysterious noises issued from it at certain times, and more than one had heard footsteps and had actually seen a pale face at the window. “How fascinating!” cried Mabel. “We must go over there and investigate some day, Ellen. Have you ever been there, Aunt Noby?” “Not I. Nothing would induce me. I’ve no wish to have any dealings with ungodly beings. The Bible warns us. Wasn’t Saul made to suffer because he dealt with familiar spirits? No, no, I cast all such doings from me.” The girls took their leave, smiling as they went. “Isn’t she a dear, old-fashioned thing?” said Mabel. “Just the same, I mean to explore that house. Will you be a sport and go with me, Ellen? It will be such an adventure.” “Nothing would suit me better. I’m primed for high adventure.” “Then let’s go this afternoon; there’s no time like the present.” The matter of lobsters was forgotten in this new excitement, but Miss Rindy brought back the subject, and the two girls were obliged to explain the anatomy of the creature before they were permitted to talk of anything else. “One thing at a time,” said Miss Rindy. “I have a single-track mind, and can’t mix lobsters with haunted houses.” “But you will go with us, won’t you? Please,” Ellen begged. “How far is it?” “Over on the next island.” “Too far for an old limp-and-go-fetch-it like me. Don’t stay too late, and don’t let the goblins get you.” The girls started off in high feather. Their way led to the end of Beatty’s Island, and thence by means of a bridge to Minor’s Island. Wild roses adorned the sides of the road, little ripe strawberries peeped out from the running tendrils of their vines, a sandpiper twittered and ran along ahead of them in frightened endeavor to lead them away from its nest, gulls screamed in noisy combat as they followed in the wake of a fishing boat, but the girls heeded none of these, for their spirits were winged for adventure. In Mabel’s companionship Ellen felt happier than she had been since the dear studio days. On this peaceful island all the troubles of the past three years seemed to roll from her; the present was enough, no need to peer into the shadowy future. “Ah me, how glorious all this is!” she sighed contentedly. “I wonder if you know, Mabel Wickham, what it means to me to have you to walk with, to talk to. Never have I had such a dear chummy person to delight my soul.”