“I’m Mrs. Adams. Come and see me, Corner House girls,” she concluded, looking after them rather wistfully. “It’s been many a day since I had young folks in my house.” Already Agnes had become acquainted with a few of the storekeepers, for she had done the errands since their arrival in Milton. Now they were welcomed by the friendly Sabbath School teachers and soon felt at home. Agnes quickly fell in love with a bronze haired girl with brown eyes, who sat next to her in class. This was Eva Larry, and Aggie confided to Ruth that she was “just lovely.” They all, even the little girls, strolled about the paths of the parade ground before returning home. This seemed to be the usual Sunday afternoon promenade of Milton folk. Several people stopped the Corner House girls (as they were already known) and spoke kindly to them. Although Leonard Kenway and Julia Stower had moved away from Milton immediately upon their marriage, and that had been eighteen years before, many of the residents of Milton remembered the sisters’ parents, and the Corner House girls were welcomed for those parents’ sake. “We certainly shall come and call on you,” said the minister’s wife, who was a lovely lady, Ruth thought. “It is a blessing to have young folk about that gloomy old house.” “Oh! we don’t think it gloomy at all,” laughed Ruth. When the lady had gone on, the Larry girl said to Agnes: “I think you’re awfully brave. _I_ wouldn’t live in the Old Corner House for worlds.” “Why not?” asked Agnes, puzzled. “I guess you don’t know how nice it is inside.” “I wouldn’t care if it was carpeted with velvet and you ate off of solid gold dishes!” exclaimed Eva Larry, with emphasis. “Oh, Eva! you won’t even come to see us?” “Of course I shall. I like you. And I think you are awfully plucky to live there——” “What for? What’s the matter with the house?” demanded Agnes, in wonder. “Why, they say such things about it. You’ve heard them, of course?” “Surely you’re not afraid of it because old Uncle Peter died there?” “Oh, no! It began long before your Uncle Peter died,” said Eva, lowering her voice. “Do you mean to say that Mr. Howbridge—nor _anybody_—has not told you about it?” “Goodness me! No!” cried Agnes. “You give me the shivers.” “I should think you would shiver, you poor dear,” said Eva, clutching at Aggie’s arm. “You oughtn’t to be allowed to go there to live. My mother says so herself. She said she thought Mr. Howbridge ought to be ashamed of himself——” “But what _for_?” cried the startled Agnes. “What’s the matter with the house?” “Why, it’s haunted!” declared Eva, solemnly. “Didn’t you ever hear about the Corner House Ghost?” “Oh, Eva!” murmured Agnes. “You are fooling me.” “No, Ma’am! I’m not.” “A—a ghost?” “Yes. Everybody knows about it. It’s been there for years.” “But—but we haven’t seen it.” “You wouldn’t likely see it—yet. Unless it was the other night when the wind blew so hard. It comes only in a storm.” “What! the ghost?”