There was no response to her knock; yet Julie could hear the sound of some one stirring in the room. Again she knocked and again there was no answer; yet Julie was sure that Miss Fogg was within. She waited a moment more, and then turned the handle tentatively. To her surprise the door was unlocked, and greatly daring, she pushed it open and walked in. Her first impression was of the ill-smelling and wretchedly untidy room; the next of old Miss Fogg standing by the side of her bed, glaring at her with furious, sunken eyes. She had on a soiled and torn nightgown, her gray hair fell wildly upon her neck, and her feet were bare on the floor. “Oh--oh please excuse me,” Julie faltered. “An’ who might you be?” the old woman demanded in a cold fury. “I’m--I’m Julie--Julie Freeman,” Julie said hastily, getting her words out as fast as possible before the storm broke. “I’m living here in the house. I brought you some flowers. I thought--” “_You thought!_” the other screamed. “You thought nothin’! You wanted to come pushin’ an’ pryin’ in here, sticking your nose where you got no business, an’ nobody wants you, just so’s you could run out in the street an’ tell everybody how old Miss Fogg lives!” “I didn’t, I didn’t!” Julie cried. “Of course I wouldn’t do such a thing.” But in truth she was so painfully aware of the whole dreadful state of the room that she dropped her eyes perforce before the faded glare of the other’s, and found herself staring down at the bare old feet. “Yes,” the old woman cried shrilly. “Look at my feet! Look at ’em good! Look at ’em, I tell you! An’ then run out an’ tell the world how you found old Miss Fogg in her dirty nightgown an’ her bare feet! Yes, look at ’em! Look at ’em, I tell you!” The distracted old creature began a sudden fantastic dance of rage and mortification, standing first upon one foot, and then on the other, while the free leg kicked defiantly out at Julie, the nightgown falling back from the withered shin. “Yes, look at ’em,” she screamed. “Yes, they’re dirty. Oh, my Lord! Go on, tell everybody what you seen!” “Oh, my dear, my dear,” Julie cried pitifully, “you know I didn’t come for that! I--I just wanted to bring you these flowers. I’m so sorry.” Her heart was jumping violently up and down; she wanted to turn and flee; but she forced herself to stay. “She’s crazy,” she thought. “She must be crazy. Oh, poor thing, poor thing! It was awful of me to push in like this, but now I am in, I’ve got to stay an’ help her.” “Look, I brought you some flowers,” she repeated. “I came to make friends.”