‘But, father, I am not so easily frightened as that.’
‘Who haunts the tapestry-room?’
‘A nun, dear, so they say; Morelands was a monastery once—a nunnery,
I mean. The monastery was opposite.’
‘That was convenient,’ giggled Mr. Moulton.
‘And why does the nun haunt the tapestries?’
‘Ah, my dear, that I can’t tell you.’
‘Perhaps the nun was a naughty nun,’ suggested Mr. Moulton. ‘Are there no naughty nuns in your convent?’
‘Oh, no, not in my convent, all the sisters are very good, you cannot imagine how good they are,’ said Agnes, and she looked out of eyes so pale and so innocent that he almost felt ashamed.
‘But what a strange idea that was of yours, Agnes,’ said Miss Dare across the table, ‘to want to shut yourself up for ever among a lot of women, with nothing else to do but to s
