I was sure it was Henry Warren 's ghost . '' `` Who was Henry Warren ? '' asked Di . `` And why should he have a ghost ? '' asked Nan . `` Laws , did you never hear the story ? And you brought up in the Glen . Well , wait a minute till I get by breath all back and I 'll tell you . '' Walter shivered delightsomely . He loved ghost stories . Their mystery , their dramatic climaxes , their eeriness gave him a fearful , exquisite pleasure . Longfellow instantly grew tame and commonplace . He threw the book aside and stretched himself out , propped upon his elbows to listen whole-heartedly , fixing his great luminous eyes on Mary 's face . Mary wished he would n't look at her so . She felt she could make a better job of the ghost story if Walter were not looking at her . She could put on several frills and invent a few artistic details to enhance the horror . As it was , she had to stick to the bare truth -- or what had been told her for the truth . `` Well , '' she began , `` you know old Tom Bailey and his wife used to live in that house up there thirty years ago . He was an awful old rip , they say , and his wife was n't much better . They 'd no children of their own , but a sister of old Tom 's died and left a little boy -- this Henry Warren -- and they took him .
He was about twelve when he came to them , and kind XXXXX undersized and delicate .
As at by if in of on till to upon