Billie, suddenly realizing this, spoke aloud, and Laura and Violet jumped nervously.

“What’s the matter with us?” Billie asked, her voice sounding strangely loud and unnatural even to herself in the hushed stillness all about.  “We never used to be so awfully quiet.  And I’m sure we don’t have to whisper about it.”

“I—­I suppose,” shivered Violet, “that it’s because everything else is so quiet.  It sort of has its effect on us.  I wish,” she added, with a sudden little outburst unusual in Violet, “that that horrid old driver hadn’t told us that horrid story.  I catch myself listening for noises all the time.”

“But that’s foolish,” said Mrs. Gilligan, in that every-day, matter-of-fact tone that never failed to give the girls courage.  “There isn’t one of us who believes anything he said, so why let it worry us?  Come on,” she said, rising and beginning to gather together the dishes, “we’ll get these things put away in a hurry, and then go up to bed.  I think a good night’s rest is what you need.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to go up in the spooky upstairs part,” whispered Violet to Billie, as she scraped some odds and ends off on a plate.  “Oh, why didn’t we travel by night, so that we could have reached here in the morning?”

“Well, we didn’t, so there’s no use worrying about it,” said Billie sharply, for the situation was beginning to get on her own nerves.  She had caught herself dreading the moment when they must leave the more or less cheerful kitchen for the upper floor of the house.

And then the minute came.

“Take a couple of candles apiece and follow me,” Mrs. Gilligan said.  “I had your grips all put in the upper hall.  Now then, let’s find out what kind of beds we have to sleep in—­if any!”

So, with little creepy chills chasing themselves up and down their spines, the girls obeyed, keeping close together and looking fearfully into the dark shadows.

They had just started up the stairs when Violet cried out, her voice sounding sharp in the stillness: 

“What’s that?”

Right over their heads there came a creepy, slithery sound, followed by a loud thump.

The girls groaned and clutched each other.

“The ghost!” said Violet, in a terrified whisper.

CHAPTER XVI

SHADOWS AND MYSTERY

“Well, if it’s a ghost,” announced Mrs. Maria Gilligan in a loud voice, “I never did hear one that sounded so much like a suitcase sliding off a trunk.”

The girls giggled and followed Mrs. Gilligan as she strode up the stairs.  The flickering candles made grotesque shadows on the walls; the house, after that noise, was as still as a tomb, and despite the comforting presence of their valiant chaperone, the girls kept close together for protection.

“D-do you suppose it was only a s-suitcase?” stammered Violet.