You know
there's a secret stairway in this house. It leads from one of the
closets in your room down to a closet in my father's library and out-of-
doors, and Lady Caroline's ghost always comes in that way."
Sylvia looked up at the beautiful pictured face with a little shiver. "I
guess that the governess dreamed it," she said.
"Of course she did," declared Grace. "I think you look like that
picture, Flora," she added.
"Well, whether you believe it or not, everybody knows that this is a
haunted house," persisted Flora. "Why, there is an account of it in a
book."
But Grace shook her head laughingly. "Flora, show Sylvia your lovely
lace-work," she said.
Flora nodded, but Sylvia was sure that she was not pleased at Grace's
refusal to believe in the ghost.
"Mammy! Mam-m-e-e," called Flora, and in a moment the black woman stood
bobbing and smiling in the doorway.
"Bring my lace-work," said Flora.
"Yas, Missy," and Mammy trotted across the room to a little table in the
further corner and brought Flora a covered basket. She opened it and set
it down in front of her little mistress.
"Do's yo' want anyt'ing else, Missy Flora?" she asked.
"If I do I'll call," replied the little girl, and Mammy again
disappeared.
The basket was lined with rose-colored silk, and there were little
pockets all around it. In the centre lay a cushion on which was a lace
pattern defined by delicate threads and tiny circles of pins. A little
strip of finished lace was rolled up in a bit of tissue paper.
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