“‘What! more bad dreams?  This sort of thing must be put a stop to,’ I said; and I confess I was very angry with the young rascals.  My wife was fumbling for the match-box.  ‘Hush!’ she whispered, ’there is somebody in the room.’  And I, too, at that instant, felt the presence of some creature besides ourselves and the children.  The candle lighted, we again reconnoitred—­nothing to be seen in dressing-room, bed-room, or the drawing-room beyond, the door of which was shut.  But the curious sense of a presence near us—­stronger than any feeling of the kind I had ever previously experienced—­was gone.  You have all felt the presence of another person unseen.  You may be writing—­you have not heard the door open, but though your back is towards the visitor, you know somehow that he has entered.”

“Quite true, Mr. Henniker—­but there is nothing unnatural or unpleasant in that sensation.”

“Nothing, of course; I merely instance it to give you some idea of what we felt on that occasion.  We were astonished to find the sitting-room untenanted.  Meanwhile poor Hal, Jack and Lucy shrieked in chorus ’Oh, the old woman in the black bonnet!  Oh, take her away!’

“Poor Angela, trembling, hung over the cribs trying to soothe the children.  It was a good while before they could tell what had happened.  ‘She came again,’ said Hal, ’and she came close, close to me, and she put her cold face down near my cheek till she touched me, and I don’t like her—­oh, I don’t like her, mother!’

“‘Did she go to Jack and Lucy too?’

“‘Yes, yes; and she made them cry as well.’

“’Why do you not like her?  Is it the black bonnet?  You dreamt of a black bonnet last night, you know,’ said I, half-puzzled, half-provoked.

“‘She’s so frightful,’ cried Hal.

“‘How could you see her?  There was no candle.’

“This question perplexed the little boys.  They persisted that she had a light about her somewhere.  I need hardly say that there was no comfort for us the rest of the night.  ’If anyone is trying to frighten us out of the place, I’ll be even with him yet,’ said I. My wife believed that a trick had been played upon the children, and she was most indignant.

“Next day the cribs were removed to the upper story, and Charlotte and Joanna, our daughters of twelve and fourteen, were put to sleep in the dressing-room.  We predicted an end to the annoyance we had been suffering.  The nurse was a quick-tempered woman, who would not stand any nonsense, and Hal’s bad dreams would be sternly driven away.  We settled ourselves to our comfortable light reading by the drawing-room fire.  Suddenly there was a commotion overhead; an outcry—­surprised more than terrified, it sounded to us.  Angela laid her book down quickly and listened with all her ears.  Fast-flying footsteps were heard above; the clapping of a door; then—­scurry, scurry—­the patter of bare feet down the staircase.  We hurried across the hall, and saw Charlotte in her nightgown returning slowly up the kitchen stairs, with a puzzled expression on her honest face.