“Well, we can’t try it now, at any rate,” replied Tom.  “What do you say to exploring?” and he went to the great, old oak door.  “Open!  Well, that’s luck,” and as he spoke he pushed back the portal, although it seemed about to fall, rather than swing on the rusty hinges.

The door opened, but no one attempted to enter the house.  Nat looked in gingerly, but the girls drew back to the shadow of a post, fearing evidently some response to the intrusion.

“Oh, come on,” suggested Tom.  “Nobody’s in here, and it’s better, a good sight, than being out in the storm.”

Nat followed Tom’s lead, and soon both young men had disappeared within the old mansion.

The girls waited almost breathless—­there was something so uncanny about the place.  But presently boyish shouts and merry calls from within assured them that no trouble had been encountered, and it was Dorothy who proposed that they follow and seek refuge from the winds, that found the girls’ ears and noses, in spite of the shelter of the old porch and the protection of furs and wraps.

“Come on,” suggested Dorothy.  “Everything must be all right or the boys would not be so jolly.  I’m just dying to get indoors—­anywhere.”

“But the screaming ghost,” Tavia reminded her.  “And the traveling lamp-post.  I feel kind of scary—­”

But Dorothy had poked her head in, and now stepped within the old hallway, so that there was nothing left for Tavia to do but to follow.

“Here we are!” called Tom in that queer tone of voice peculiar to empty houses.

“And look at the gorgeousness,” announced Nat.  “Ever see finer wood, or better mantels?  Why, I’ll bet this was a regular castle, all right.  Not so bad now.”

The young men were racing about from room to room, but the girls were not so keen on investigating.  Dorothy did walk through the great long parlors and admire the handsome Italian marble mantels, and the library with inlaid floor was also explored, but Tavia kept as near as possible to the front door—­ready to run, she explained.

“Why, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” said Dorothy, now quite at ease.  “The boys are in the very top of the house, over in the tower, and I am sure if there was anything to fear, they would have discovered it by this time.”

“But the cellar,” objected Tavia, who was really never as much frightened as she pretended to be, for she had a way of “looking for trouble,” as Nat expressed it.

“When they come down I’ll ask them to do the cellar,” offered Dorothy, with a laugh.  “Then will you make yourself comfortable?”

Tavia sighed.  “Oh, it’s so spooky,” she insisted.  “I feel as if things are getting ready to spring at us from every corner.  And did you ever see so many corners in one place in all your life?”

“Oh, come up and see the gallery room,” called Nat from the top of the stair-well.  “If we don’t bring the boys out here and have some doings!  This is the swellest kind of a place.  Come on up, girls.  Nary a ghost nor a ghostie in the diggings.”