Polly, with an ominous shake of the head, continued:

"There's more than windows rattle, I guess. Didn't you see nothin',
all white and corpse-like, go a-whizzin, and rappin' by your bed?"

"Why, no," said Lenora; "what do you mean?"

So Polly told her of the ghosts and goblins which nightly ranged the
two chambers over the front and back parlors. Lenora said nothing, but
she secretly resolved not to venture again after dark into the haunted
portion of the house. But where should she sleep? That was now the
important question. Adjoining the sitting-room was a pleasant, cozy
little place, which Margaret called her music-room. In it she kept her
piano, her music stand, books, and several fine plants, besides
numerous other little conveniences. At the end of this room was a
large closet where, at different seasons of the year, Mag hung away
the articles of clothing which she and her sister did not need.

Toward this place Lenora turned her eyes; for, besides being unusually
pleasant, it was also very near her mother, whose sleeping-room
joined, though it did not communicate with it. Accordingly, before
noon the piano was removed to the parlor; the plants were placed, some
on the piazza, and some in the sitting-room window, while Margaret and
Carrie's dresses were removed to the closet of their room, which
chanced to be a trifle too small to hold them all conveniently; so
they were crowded one above the other, and left for "the girls to see
to when they came home!"

In perfect horror Aunt Polly looked on, regretting for once the ghost
story which she had told.