of that month, Mr. Cranstoun being in the parlour, I asked him, “What made him look so pale, and to seem so uneasy?” “I have met,” said he, “with the oddest accident this night that ever befel me:  the moment I got into bed, I heard the finest music that can possibly be imagined.  I sat up in my bed upon this, to hear from whence it came; and it seemed to me to come from the middle of the stairs.  It continued, as I believe, at least above two hours.”  At this I laughed, and said, “O Cranstoun, how can you be so whimsical?” “Tis no whim,” replied he, “for I really heard it; nor had I been asleep; for it began soon after I got into bed.”  I then said, “Don’t make yourself uneasy, if it was so; since nothing ill, sure, can be presaged by music.”  When my father came into the parlour, this topic of conversation was instantly dropped.  The next night, I, who lay quite at the other end of the house, being awake, heard music, that seemed to me to be in the yard, exceeding plainly.  Upon this, I got up and looked out of the window that faced the yard, but saw nothing.  The music, however, continued till near morning, when I fell asleep, and heard no more of it.  My mother’s maid coming into my chamber, as usual, to call me, I told her what I heard.  This drew from her the following saucy answer:  “You see and hear, Madam, with Mr. Cranstoun’s eyes and ears.”  To which I made no other reply than, “Go, and send me my own maid”.  As soon as I was dressed, I went into Mr. Cranstoun’s room, whom I found sitting therein by the fire.  I asked him, at first coming into the room, “How he had spent the night, and whether he had heard the music?” To which he replied, “Yes, all night long; I could not sleep a wink for it; nay, I got out of my bed, and followed it into the great parlour, where it left me.  I then returned into my own room, and heard such odd noises in the parlour under me, as greatly discomposed me.”  “I wish,” added he, “you would send me up a bason of tea.”  To which I replied, “Pray come down, as you are now up; for you know my papa is better tempered when you are by, than when I am with him alone.”  We then both went down to breakfast, but said nothing to my father of what had happened.

A little while after this, Susannah Gunnel, my mother’s maid, who had before given me the impertinent answer, came into my bedchamber before I was up, and told me she had heard the music.  She also begged my pardon for not believing me, when I had formerly averted the same thing.  Mr. Cranstoun, myself, and this maid then talked all together about this surprising event.  Mr. Cranstoun declared he had heard noises, as well as music, which the other two at that time never heard.  The music generally began about twelve o’clock at night.  My father obliging the family to be in bed about eleven, I told the aforesaid maid, who was an old servant in the family, “That she and I would go together up into Mr. Cranstoun’s room at twelve o’clock, and try if we could