The ghost was sitting by the window, watching the dying gold leaves from the autumn trees fly through the air, and the red leaves dancing madly in the wind. His head was leaning on his hand, and he looked tired, and very sad.

Indeed, he looked very sad and defeated, and he looked a bit ill, as if he had not been caring for himself. Little Virginia, whose first idea had been to run away and lock herself in her room, was filled with pity, and determined to try and comfort him.

She walked so quietly, and he was so deep in his melancholy, that he was not aware of her presence till she spoke to him.

'I am so sorry for you,' she said, 'but my brothers are going back to Eton to-morrow, and then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy you.'

'It is rather silly to ask me to behave myself', answered the ghost. He looked round in astonishment at the pretty little girl who had been brave enough to speak to him.

'I must rattle my chains, and groan through keyholes, and walk about at night, if that is what you are talking about. It is my only reason for existing.'