“Now just look here, Faithful!” said Miss Sophonisba.  “John was one of the most careful, considerate fellows I ever knew, and he was always particular careful of you.  Do you think it’s likely he wouldn’t have no more sense, now that he’s a saint in heaven, than to come scaring you out of your wits in that way?  Is it like him, now?”

“But oh, sister, if you had felt it as I did, clear into the bone!”

“Then it’s over twenty-five years since the Federalist was lost.  Do you suppose he’s been going round the other world all this while without getting a chance to be dry?  Did you see him?”

“No, but I felt it.”

“Well, now if there’d been anything real there, anything material, you’d have seen it; and if it wasn’t material, how could it be wet?”

Faithful was not prepared to answer, but it was evident that she had received a great shock.  In vain did her sister argue, reason and coax.  She could not explain, but that something had come behind her, and that this Something had touched her, she was convinced; and she added:  “I do believe it was John I saw the other night.  I thought then I was awake all the time, and now I know I was.”

This last assertion quite overset Miss Sophonisba’s patience, “If ever any one was asleep,” she said, “you were when I came up stairs.  I thought I heard you walking about with your bare feet, and I came up to see.”

“Then you:  heard it too?” said Miss Faithful, eagerly.

It was an unlucky admission, but Miss Sophonisba would not allow that she had made it.

“I heard the wind make the boards creak, I suppose; and do you think John wouldn’t have more sense than to be walking about our room at half-past ten at night?  What nonsense!”

“You may call it nonsense as much as you like, Sophonisba,” said Miss Faithful, beginning to cry afresh, “but I know what I know, and I can’t help it.”

“Well, well, dear, we won’t think of it any more.  You’re nervous and worried, and you’d just best put on your wrapper and lie down and try to go to sleep.”

“I don’t like to stay alone just now,” said Miss Faithful, timidly.

“I don’t want you to:  I’ll bring my work up stairs and stay with you.”

Miss Sophonisba helped her sister up stairs, and began to assist her to undress.  As she took into her hand the cape of Miss Faithful’s woolen dress she nearly uttered an exclamation of surprise, but checked herself in time.  On the left shoulder was a wet spot, and the dress directly beneath was quite damp.  Miss Sophonisba said nothing, of this matter to her sister, but she made an excuse to leave the room for a moment, and going down stairs looked to see if any water had been spilled on the floor.  There was none, and Miss Sophonisba was puzzled.  She remembered that when her sister was startled before she had occupied the same seat, with her back to the cellar door.  She noticed that the door was slightly