He followed the footsteps; the stairs were steep, and opened into the middle of the long garret, and nobody was in sight. But the agitated dust danced in the sunbeam which streamed way across the room. It was very clean up there--no lumber of any sort, no old furniture, no old trunks, no old papers or such litter--and it was as quiet as death. His heart beat now with excitement, not embarrassment. His quick eye saw that there was no other room, and that there was no place to hide except behind the chimney that ran through the front part and up through the roof. He walked over to it. It seemed a long walk, it was so quiet and queer, and he felt as if he were being watched. There was no one behind the chimney. He went all around it. Now he felt quite himself again. He had been a fool, or else asleep, and he put his foot on the first stair, saying aloud ‘Good-bye,’ which meant ‘good-bye to my foolishness.’ A timid voice said, ‘Oh, don’t go!’ He stood with his lips parted, his damp hair clinging to his forehead where his cap had pressed it, his head bent forward to listen, every nerve tingling. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘Close beside you, here at your right hand.’ ‘I don’t see you.’ ‘No, you can’t see me now.’ ‘Why can’t I see you?’ ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ the voice sighed. ‘Was that you I saw yesterday on the steps?’ ‘Yes, I was watching you plow, and I wanted to speak to you.’ ‘I knew it, and that is why I came in. Can’t I see you?’ Again the sigh blew across his face. ‘What do you mean by my not being able to see you?’ ‘_Can_ you see me?’ ‘No, not now; but I saw you at the door, before you came up here.’ ‘But you could not hear me then.’ ‘I hear you now.’ ‘Yes, but you do not see me.’ ‘Can’t you be seen and heard too at the same time?’ Again a soft piteous sigh. ‘I want to know who you are, and why you can’t be seen and heard too.’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘I must go now, if you won’t let me see you.’ ‘Oh, don’t go!’ He stood irresolute; he was not one bit frightened, only he was aching to see her of the voice, and to know who she was. Then he asked: ‘Can’t I _ever_ see you again?’ ‘Oh, yes!’ said the voice, and it seemed to vibrate all around him, a dancing voice full of joy and hope. He smiled with it, and then there was laughter all around him, moving here and there gaily. ‘I want to see you now.’ ‘Then I can’t talk with you any more.’ ‘Never mind, let me see you.’ A sigh, a soft moaning sound, a rustle as of garments, and she stood before him. He had not been embarrassed by the voice, but now his heart began to beat, and he said, quite as he had meant to when he first went into the house: ‘Is there anything I can do to help you settle?’ That was an absurd thing to say to this slim, wistful girl, who stood looking at him. It was the natural boy asserting itself against the unknown, the unexpected.