And very becoming it proved. The skirt of scarlet silk was sprinkled with strange hieroglyphics and mystic signs which had been cut from black silk and pasted on. The pointed scarlet bodice was laced up over a soft white neckerchief, and over all was a long black cloak lined with red. Then she had a high, peaked hat, made after the most approved style for witches, and on her shoulder was perched a toy cat. This furry animal was of most lifelike effect, and his green eyeballs blared by reason of tiny electric lights concealed in his head. Betty carried a broomstick wound with red ribbons, and, with high-heeled red shoes, she made a complete picture of the traditional witch. Jack was a ghost. But he disdained the idea of a ghost in white. “No,” he said, “I want a real ghost’s robe. It must be made of thin, almost transparent, fluttery stuff—yards and yards of it—and of a sort of brownish smoke color.” Mrs. McGuire caught his idea, and herself fashioned a voluminous robe of smoke-colored chiffon. It was made something like a college gown, but there were several of them, and after donning a sort of ulster-shaped garment of dull brown muslin, Jack put on one after another of the floppy gauze robes. The effect was fine. The least breath of air sent the shimmering material into billowy waves, and the “ghost” almost seemed to disappear at times. A deep cowl-like hood nearly concealed his face, and made his features dim and indistinguishable, and when Jack stalked about with theatrical stride, and gave voice to fearful, hollow groans, he seemed as fine a ghost as one could wish. Jeanette and Constance had chosen to wear Druid’s costume, and, as several others had like taste, quite a number of shapes in flowing classic raiment lent their dignified effect to the party. There were many white ghosts, some weird and terrible ones, several witches and wizards, and many nondescript costumes. The guests assembled on time, as all were anxious not to miss any of the fun. When Betty and Jack arrived at the Carey house and rang the door-bell, the door swung slowly open, and though no one was in sight, a sepulchral groan greeted them. Then a strange-looking, cloaked figure, with a lighted Jack-o’-lantern for a head, ushered them into the drawing-room. Betty herself had helped to arrange this room, but when the party began, it looked even more effective than when they had decorated it. The room was very dimly lighted, and the walls had been hung with black muslin on which were painted grinning skulls and cross-bones in gleaming white. The big wood fire at one end of the room shone through a screen of red transparent stuff, which gave a crimson glow to the room. Jack-o’-lanterns were all about, and the candles inside them lit up the grotesque faces of the pumpkins. Bob Carey, who announced that he was the ghost of Hamlet’s father, introduced the other ghosts to each other.