"She didn't mean it at all, Professor," he said, "Miss Cameron meant to say hideous. Now, don't ask me what I mean by hideous, just look at the interior decorations here and draw your own conclusions as to my meaning. But though not to be called æsthetic, this furniture is fairly comfy. The springs of this sofa are intact,--come sit by my side, little darling." This last to Vernie, who was wide-eyed and alert, lapping up these strange, new impressions. "All right," and she flung herself down beside him. "You're a real comfort, Mr. Tracy,--you're so,--so--unministerial!" "Thank you, my child. One needn't carry one's pulpit voice into social life." "Oh, I don't mean you do or say anything that a man of your calling oughtn't to, but you're so nice about it." "I think so too," chattered Milly, "I do think a clergyman with a sense of humour makes a fine combination." The mental atmosphere gradually lightened and when Landon suggested they all retire, it was a composed and merry hearted group that obeyed the summons. When twelve sonorous strokes boomed from the tall clock in the upper hall, the men beneath the roof of Black Aspens were all sleeping more or less soundly. Milly, with only occasional little quivering shudders, slumbered in Landon's arms. Vernie slept with the sound dreamless sleep of youth. But Eve and Norma were wide awake, and unable to close their eyes. In adjoining rooms, the communicating door ajar, they could hear one another toss restlessly, but they said no words. Norma's blue eyes were wide open, her thoughts rambling over the strange surroundings in which she found herself, and her mind leaping forward, speculating on what might happen. Eve, her long, glittering eyes half closed, listened for any sound; her nerves alert, her thoughts darting from material things to the supernatural, every muscle tense with a nameless apprehension. More hours were rung out by the old clock, and at last dawn began to creep in at the deep narrow windows of the old house. With a shrug and a stretch Vernie awoke. Drowsily, in the half light she tried to make out her surroundings, and then, suddenly remembering where she was, she dove her head under her blanket, in a quick rush of fear. Then curiosity conquered, and she came to the surface again, and looked about. The light, growing gradually stronger, showed the appointments of the room, the ugly old four-poster bedstead, of light wood,--apple or hickory,--the heavy rep lambrequins, that seemed to be a feature of the house, and the scantily appointed dresser, on which, the night before, she had set her extinguished candle. Shadows still lurked in the corners of the room, still hung round the draperies and furniture, yet through the gloom Vernie saw something that made her eyes stare and her flesh creep. Clenching her hands till her sharp nails bit into her palms, she gave a shriek that rang through the silent house.