telephone was ringing steadily. "Come here at once."

"Miss Agnes," she beseeched, "you go to bed and don't listen.
There'll be nothing there, for all your trouble," she said, in a
quavering voice. "It's nothing human that rings that bell."

Finally, however, she freed me, and I went down the stairs. I had
carried down a lamp, and my nerves were vibrating to the rhythm of
the bell's shrill summons. But, strangely enough, the fear had
left me. I find, as always, that it is difficult to put into words.
I did not relish the excursion to the lower floor. I resented the
jarring sound of the bell. But the terror was gone.

I went back to the telephone. Something that was living and moving
was there. I saw its eyes, lower than mine, reflecting the lamp
like twin lights. I was frightened, but still it was not the fear.
The twin lights leaped forward--and proved to be the eyes of Miss
Emily's cat, which had been sleeping on the stand!

I answered the telephone. To my surprise it was Miss Emily herself,
a quiet and very dignified voice which apologized for disturbing me
at that hour, and went on:

"I feel that I was very abrupt this afternoon, Miss Blakiston. My
excuse is that I have always feared change. I have lived in a rut
too long, I'm afraid. But of course, if you feel you would like to
move the telephone, or put in an upstairs instrument, you may do
as you like."

She seemed, having got me there, unwilling to ring off. I got a