If you're afraid you can go back and wait at your cousin's for me.

She lives near here, doesn't she ?" "I will that," replied Bridget fervently, "but don't ye be too long gone, Miss Grace." "I won't stay long," promised Grace, and hurried down the road, leaving Bridget to proceed with much grumbling to her cousin's house.
The house that Bridget had so flatly refused to pass was a two-story affair of brick that set well back from the highway.

There were rumors afloat that a murder had once been committed there, and that the apparition of the victim, an old man, walked about at night moaning in true ghost fashion.
To be sure no one had as yet been found who had really seen the spectre old man, nevertheless the place kept its ghost reputation and was generally avoided.
Grace, who was nothing if not daring, never lost an opportunity to pass the old house, and jeered openly when any one talked seriously of the "ghost." Now, she smiled to herself as she rapidly neared the house, at Bridget's evident fear of the supernatural.
"What a goose Bridget is," she murmured.

"Just as though there were----" She stopped abruptly and stared in wonder at the old house.
On the side away from the road was a small wing, and through one of the windows of this wing gleamed a tiny point of light.
"A light," she said aloud in surprise.

"How strange.