three little friends entered the house. Flora's black "Mammy" was
waiting for them on the piazza.

"Thar's some 'freshments fur yo' in de dinin'-room," she said; and the
girls were glad for the cool milk and the tiny frosted cakes which a
negro girl served them. Sylvia wondered if Flora ever did anything for
herself; for there seemed to be so many negro servants who were on the
alert to wait upon all the white people at the "big house."

"Come up to my room, girls, and rest until it's time to dress for
supper," said Flora.

Flora's room was just across the hall from the one where Grace and
Sylvia were to sleep. Instead of a small white bed like theirs there was
a big bed of dark mahogany with four tall, high posts. The bed was so
high that there was a cushioned step beside it. The portrait of a lady
hung over a beautiful inlaid desk, and Flora pointed to it with evident
pride.

"That's my great-grandmother; and her father built this house. My mother
says that she was Lady Caroline, and that she was so beautiful that
whenever she went to Charleston people would run after her coach just to
look at her," and Flora looked at her companions expectantly, quite
forgetting that she had told them the story before.

"Oh, Flora! Every time I come out here you tell me about your wonderful
great-grand-mother," said Grace, "and you used to tell me that her ghost
haunted this house."

"Well, it does," declared Flora.