“What is the matter, Carrie?  Why do you scream so, dear?” asked Agnes.

“Oh, Miss Elwyn!—­that tall, white figure!—­that tall, white figure!  It came and stood by me, and laid its cold white hand right on my face.  It was a ghost—­I know it was—­I saw it so plain in the moonlight.  Oh, don’t leave me!—­don’t leave me, Miss Elwyn!  It will come again!” And the trembling child clung with both arms tightly around Agnes.

“I will not leave the room, Carrie,” said Agnes; “but I must find out what has frightened you so.  There are no such things as ghosts, Carrie:  you have been dreaming.”

“Oh no, Miss Elwyn, I did not dream that!” sobbed little Carrie; “I was having a beautiful dream about ho-o-o-me and mother, when that cold hand came on my cheek, and I opened my eyes, and saw that tall, white figure.  Oh, it had such great hollow eyes!  I saw them so plain in the moonlight!”

“Now lie down, dear little Carrie, till I find out what all this means,” said Agnes.  The weeping child obeyed, hugging up close to her little sister for protection.

The light had been taken away at ten o’clock, as was the invariable custom at Mrs. Arlington’s; but Agnes opened both shutters, and admitted the bright moonlight into the room, making every object to be discerned almost as plainly as in the day-time.  She then stepped to her own bed.  Miss Glenn certainly was not there.  She went to the door of her room, and found it locked on the inside, as she had left it when she went to bed.  Miss Glenn, then, must still be in the room.  Agnes walked around it, carefully examining every object:  she then went into the closet, and felt carefully all around the walls.  She began to think there was something very strange in all this; and the other girls, all of whom had been wide awake ever since they were aroused by the screams of little Carrie, were sitting up in their beds in a great state of agitation and alarm.

“I will not stay in this room another night!” said little Carrie; “I wish we dared to go down to Mrs. Arlington.  Let’s all go down together to Miss Emma, and ask her to come up here.”

“No, no; hush, children!” said Agnes.  Then she called, as loudly as she dared, without awaking those in the neighboring rooms: 

“Miss Glenn!  Miss Glenn! where are you?”

“Here I am!  What do you want of me?” answered a smothered voice.

“Mercy on us!” shrieked Carrie and Ella in a breath, and springing with one bound on to the floor—­“mercy on us! she is under our bed!”

Agnes looked under the bed, and could just distinguish something white, huddled up in one corner under the head of the bed.

“Miss Glenn! what do you mean?” exclaimed Agnes, in a tone of amazement.  “Are you trying to frighten these poor children?  Come out here directly.”

With all Agnes’ gentleness, she had sufficient spirit when roused, and she was now really indignant at what she supposed was a cruel attempt to frighten little Carrie and Ella.  Ruth Glenn was three or four years older than Agnes, but yet she submitted at once to the tone of authority in which she was addressed, and came crawling out from under the bed.