She unpinned the paper, and read the following words:--'For my dear mistress, with respectful wishes, and best prayers for many happy returns of the day.' Mrs Prothero unfolded the work slowly, and saw two handsome, long, netted window curtains, with a fancy border, that must have taken hours from the donor's sleep to accomplish.

As she unfolded them, a letter fell upon the floor.
Poor, nervous Mrs Prothero, rubbed her hands over one another several times before she had the courage to pick it up, and then she scarcely dared to open it.

As she made the attempt, however, a cry of 'Mother! mother! why isn't my breakfast ready ?' was heard from the foot of the stairs, proceeding from Mr Prothero's lusty voice, who was too proud and too angry to call for Gladys.
Mrs Prothero ran downstairs with the letter in her hand.
'My dear David, I am afraid Gladys is gone,' she said tremblingly.
'Well, let her go,' said the farmer.

'A good riddance.

But what do you mean ?' Mrs Prothero told of the empty room, unused bed, cap, curtains, and letter.
'This house is bewitched!' said Mr Prothero.