After a while she raised herself on her pillow,
and in a low voice asked, "Who is there? is any one there?" There was no
reply, no sound of any description, and yet the conviction grew upon her.
Her heart began to beat, and the blood to mount to her head. Her own
being made so much sound, so much commotion, that it seemed to her she
could not hear anything save those beatings and pulsings. Yet she was not
afraid. After a time, however, the oppression became more than she could
bear. She got up and lit her candle, and searched through the familiar
room; but she found no trace that any one had been there. The furniture
was all in its usual order. There was no hiding-place where any human
thing could find refuge. When she had satisfied herself, and was about to
return to bed, suppressing a sensation which must, she said to herself,
be altogether fantastic, she was startled by a low knocking at the door
of communication. Then she heard the voice of the elder girl. "Oh, Miss
Vivian what is it? Have you seen anything?" A new sense of anger,
disdain, humiliation, swept through Mary's mind. And if she had seen
anything, she said to herself, what was that to those strangers? She
replied, "No, nothing; what should I see?" in a tone which was almost
haughty, in spite of herself.
"I thought it might be--the ghost.
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