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"We had a great interest in that book," said Elinor smiling, "for he was compiling it when he boarded with us last summer. I'm glad to hear it is out at last. We'll have to get a copy of it, for old times' sake." Patricia puckered her brow inquiringly. "Still, in case," she insinuated with a giggle. "I don't think it would be such a bad sort of thing, do you, Norn?".

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Elinor merely stirred and mumbled something indistinct, much to the contrite Patricia's relief. "Pooh! they're as stupid as the rest," thought Patricia contemptuously, and she let her attention wander, studying the various ghosts, making mental notes as to height and size for future reference. "Don't tell me," she said abruptly. "You ought to be dancing instead of wasting your time on old ladies like me." Here there was a burst of mirth at the incongruity of the words with Miss Jinny's ferocious masculine aspect, but she silenced it with a wave of her hookah stem. "Let me introduce the Second Calendar, who I hope knows enough respectable young men here to see that you aren't a wall flower." "Why, it's like a laundry," exclaimed Patricia in disappointment as she looked about her. The low-ceiled whitewashed apartment into which they had descended from the winding iron stair was sepulchrally bare and empty in the flicker of its noisy gas jets, the rusty gas stoves at its farther end emphasizing its general air of desolation..