A PAIR OF HANDS
AN OLD MAID'S GHOST-STORY
"Yes," said Miss Le Petyt, gazing into the deep fireplace and letting her hands and her knitting lie for the moment idle in her lap. "Oh, yes, I have seen a ghost. In fact I have lived in a house with one for quite a long time."
"How you could!" began one of my host's daughters; and "You, Aunt Emily?" cried the other at the same moment.
Miss Le Petyt, gentle soul, withdrew her eyes from the fireplace and protested with a gay little smile. "Well, my dears, I am not quite the coward you take me for. And, as it happens, mine was the most harmless ghost in the world. In fact"—and here she looked at the fire again—"I was quite sorry to lose her."
"It was a woman, then? Now I think," said Miss Blanche, "that female ghosts are the horridest of all. They wear little shoes with high red heels, and go about tap, tap, wringing their hands."
"This one wrung her hands, certainly. But I don't know about the high red heels, for I never saw her feet. Perhaps she was like the Queen of
