the threshold.
“Who—who ARE you talking to, Sara?” she gasped out.
Sara drew her in cautiously, but she looked as if something pleased and amused her.
“You must promise not to be frightened—not to scream the least bit, or I can’t tell you,” she answered.
Ermengarde felt almost inclined to scream on the spot, but managed to control herself. She looked all round the attic and saw no one. And yet Sara had certainly been speaking TO someone. She thought of ghosts.
“Is it—something that will frighten
She came forward, bobbing curtsies, but between Sara’s eyes and her own there passed a gleam of friendly understanding, while her words tumbled over each other.
“Oh, if you please, miss! I’m that grateful, miss! I did want to see the doll, miss, that I did. Thank you, miss. And thank you, ma’am,”—turning