Deborah departed to her own dominions, and my aunt, going to her own room, sent for Mrs. Betty, who did not appear at dinner, and who was at least more careful in her conduct for some days, though I have reason to think her heart was little affected by her disgrace or her mother's admonitions. It was only a few days afterward that Jeanne came to her mistress again, with a humble request that she would intercede with Madame Corbet to allow her to change her room. For since my mother had been so unwell Jeanne had occupied a room at the end of the gallery leading to our apartment, which, as I have said, was somewhat separated from the rest of the house. "Why, what is the matter with the room?" asked my mother. "I thought it a very nice one." "And so it is madame, but—" "But what?" "I would rather not sleep there, madame." "Some one has been telling you ghost stories," said I, a sudden idea coming to me. "Is it not so?" "Ah, mamselle!" and Jeanne began to cry, as usual. "Do be reasonable," said my mother, rather impatiently, for she was tired and not very well. "Stop crying, and tell me what has scared you." It was not easy to pacify Jeanne, but we succeeded at last, and then the truth came out. Mrs. Betty had told her that a headless woman with fiery eyes came out of a secret closet in the hall of that room, which no one had been able to find, and that whoever saw her became blind. "Where does she keep her fiery eyes, if she has no head—in her pocket?" I asked, laughing at this very original ghost. "Perhaps she carries them on a dish before her, like St. What's-her-name in the picture." "Ah, mamselle! Do not laugh. I did indeed see something—two fiery eyes in the dark—and my eyes have not felt right since." "The eyes of that great gray cat which is always following you up-stairs and down," said my mother. Then, seeing that the poor woman was really unhappy, she tried to reason her out of her fears on religious grounds, but, as usually happens in such cases, without much success. Jeanne owned the truth of all she said; but— Finally my mother gave way, and asked my aunt to allow a cot-bed to be put into the large light closet which opened from my mother's room. "Why, certainly, if you like to have her there," said my aunt. "You know I thought it would be more convenient for you, in the first place." "It is not that exactly," replied my mother; "but Jeanne has taken a fit of superstitious terror and is afraid of, I know not what apparition, which some one has told her comes out of a closet in the wall of her room. I have reasoned with her, but, of course, to no purpose." "Is there really such a ghost about the house, aunt?" I asked. "There used to be an old story to that effect," said my aunt; "but I do not know that any one has ever seen the apparition. Cornwall is famous for such things. You shall hardly find an old hall or mansion in the country which has not its tale of wonder."