"Every night?"

"Yes. He died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three
nights," said Caroline rigidly. She stood as if holding herself
calm with a vise of concentrated will.

"It--it looks like--like--" stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of
intense horror.

"I know what it looks like well enough," said Caroline. "I've got
eyes in my head."

"It looks like Edward," burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of
fear. "Only--"

"Yes, it does," assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone
matched her sister's, "only-- Oh, it is awful! What is it,
Caroline?"

"I ask you again, how should I know?" replied Caroline. "I see it
there like you. How should I know any more than you?"

"It MUST be something in the room," said Mrs. Brigham, staring
wildly around.

"We moved everything in the room the first night it came," said
Rebecca; "it is not anything in the room."

Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury. "Of course it is
something in the room," said she. "How you act! What do you mean