Priscilla stopped to laugh, and her audience, especially the girls who knew the actors in the little comedy, joined her heartily. Peggy, who was hearing of the splendors of Mrs. Marshall’s coming-out party, to which festivity two hundred guests had been invited, cast a wistful glance in the direction of the laughing group, and then, with a twinge of conscience, gave redoubled attention to the tale of by-gone grandeur. "They carried him out to the new part of town," said Priscilla, continuing her story, "and pulled the carriage over to a vacant lot. And they were feeling so well satisfied with themselves, when father spoke out from behind the curtains, in his very deepest voice. ’Thank you for the ride, boys,’ he said. ’It has been very enjoyable! But I think you may take me home now.’ Of course there wasn’t anything else for them to do, and father rode home in state. He made them pull the carriage into the stable, and then he got out and locked the door and thanked them again, very politely. Father can keep as grave as a judge even when he is dying to laugh. But as soon as he got into the house he woke mother up to enjoy the joke. He just couldn’t wait till morning." "I guess you had your share of Hallowe’en pranks, didn’t you?" asked Amy, turning to Elaine. "Why, no. What made you think so?" "When that carriage passed the house I woke up. It was a sort of uncanny noise, you know, wheels and footsteps, instead of horses’ hoofs. I suspected that something queer happening and I jumped up and looked out of my window, but the carriage had gone before I could get there. But I saw somebody on your porch." "The boys in this neighborhood were certainly on the rampage last night," observed Ruth. "But this wasn’t a boy," explained Amy. "It was a woman, or a girl, dressed in a long, loose dress, like a light wrapper." "How mysterious that sounds," cried Priscilla, and Peggy, who, to her great relief, had reached the end of the coming-out party, put in her word. "It’s something new for the girls of the Terrace to go out playing Hallowe’en tricks." "But it wasn’t a Hallowe’en trick. There wasn’t anything out of order this morning," Elaine insisted sharply. "It was something, anyway. I was as wide awake as I am now. It walked back and forth half a dozen times, while I stood looking, and then it seemed to disappear. O, girls, you don’t suppose--" Amy’s eyes were opened in a half-frightened stare. A girl of good sense in many respects, she had a vein of superstition in her make-up which was one of her greatest weaknesses. Peggy broke into a ringing laugh. "The Spook on the Porch," she cried, "or the Mystery of Friendly Terrace. O, Amy, what an imagination you have!" "It wasn’t imagination at all," Amy persisted stubbornly. "It was a woman or something--in a trailing dress. I wasn’t scared a bit. I just thought it was a Hallowe’en prank."