ajar, and it occurred to her that the cold air blowing through the crack might account for her sister’s feeling of sudden chill, if not for the dampness.  She went down the cellar stairs, carrying with her a lighted candle.  Bold as she was, a singular sensation came over her when she saw upon each stair a print, as if some one with wet feet had ascended or descended, and that very recently.  The track was not such as would be left by a person heavily shod:  it was rather like that of one wearing a stocking or thin slipper.

“What under the sun—­” was her perplexed exclamation as she went down, following the marks of the unknown feet until they were lost on the stone floor.  It was certain that there was no one in the cellar, but as she went up again, and paused for a moment at the top of the staircase, she heard, or thought she heard, close to her ear, a long, weary sigh, as of one in pain, and a sudden breath of cold air swept past her down the stairs.  She turned, and crossing the little passage went into the south room.  The burned spot on the floor was covered by the neat rag carpet, but there were still some slight marks on the wall of the old doctor’s brick furnace.  Miss Sophonisba glanced round the room, but her eyes fell upon nothing but the familiar and well-preserved furniture; yet there came over her a strange sense that she was not alone.  She saw nothing, but in spite of herself a feeling of a Presence not her own gathered about her.  It was but for a moment, and then her habitual firmness and common sense reasserted themselves.

“Stuff and nonsense!” she said.  “I am getting as bad as Faithful;” and leaving the room, she went back to her sister.  Miss Faithful had sought comfort in her devotions, and was more composed than could have been expected.  Neither felt inclined to comment on the recent disturbance.  Miss Faithful’s health seemed to have received no permanent harm from the sudden shock she had undergone, but she had a nervous dread of being alone, which was a source of some inconvenience to her sister.

The month of December passed, and the uncomfortable impression left by Faithful’s attack was beginning to fade away from the minds of both, when it happened that the disturbance was renewed in a singular manner.

Miss Sophonisba was alone, her sister having gone to a household in the village to take the measure for some mourning garments to be made up immediately.  Miss Sophonisba was busy with a black bonnet intended for a member of the same family, and was thinking of nothing but the folds of the material directly under her fingers.  Gradually there came over her a feeling that she was not alone.  She struggled against it, and resolutely bent her mind on her work; but the impression grew upon her, and with it a sensation of horror such as she had never before experienced.  The idea that something stood behind her became so strong that she raised her eyes from her work and looked around.  Was there anything actually there,