"
"I should say not. I--Good heavens above! What's that?"
She started and clutched her companion by the arm. They both listened.
"I don't hear anything but the storm," said Emily. "Why, Auntie, you ARE
frightened; you're trembling. I do believe there is something."
Thankful snatched her hand away.
"There isn't," she declared. "Of course there isn't."
"Then why are you so nervous?"
"Me? Nervous! Emily Howes, don't you ever say that to me again. I ain't
nervous and I ain't goin' to be nervous. There's no--no sane reason why
I should be and I shan't. I shan't!"
"But, Auntie, you are. Oh, what is it?"
"Nothin'. Nothin' at all, I tell you. The idea!" with an attempt at a
laugh. "The idea of you thinkin' I'm nervous. Young folks like you or
rich old women are the only ones who can afford nerves. I ain't either
young nor rich."
Emily laughed, too. This speech was natural and characteristic.
"If you were a nervous wreck," she said, "it would be no wonder, all
alone in the dark as you have been in a deserted house like this. I
can't forgive myself for falling asleep. Whose house do you suppose it
is?"
Aunt Thankful did not answer. Emily went on. Her short nap had revived
her courage and spirit.
"Perhaps it is a haunted house," she said, jokingly. "Every village has
a haunted house, you know. Perhaps that's why the stage-driver warned us
not to go into it."
To her surprise Mrs. Barnes seemed to take offense at this attempt at
humor.
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