Judith climbed the basement stairs rather slowly. Her mother was busy rearranging the disorder the hastily departing servants had left. Their departure had indeed been made in sufficient haste to have left behind the air of its having been flight. There was a great deal to be done, and Jane Foster, moving about with broom and pail and scrubbing brushes, did not dislike the excitement of the work before her. Judith's certainty that she would not be missed made all clear before her. If her absence was observed her mother would realize that the whole house lay open to her and that she was an undisturbing element wheresoever she was led either by her fancy or by circumstance. If she went into the parlours she would probably sit and talk to herself or play quietly with her shabby doll. In any case she would be finding pleasure of her own and would touch nothing which could be harmed. When the child found herself in the entrance hall she stopped a few moments to look about her. The stillness seemed to hold her and she paused to hear and feel it. In leaving the basement behind, she had left the movement of living behind also. No one was alive upon this floor--nor upon the next--nor the next. It was as if one had entered a new world--a world in which something existed which did not express itself in sound or in things which one could see. Chairs held out their arms to emptiness--cushions were not pressed by living things--only the people in the pictures were looking at something, but one could not tell what they were looking at. But on the fourth floor was the Closed Room, which she must go to--because she must go to it--that was all she knew. She began to mount the stairs which led to the upper floors. Her shabby doll was held against her hip by one arm, her right hand touched the wall as she went, she felt the height of the wall as she looked upward. It was such a large house and so empty. Where had the people gone and why had they left it all at once as if they were afraid? Her father had only heard vaguely that they had gone because they had had trouble. She passed the second floor, the third, and climbed towards the fourth. She could see the door of the Closed Room as she went up step by step, and she found herself moving more quickly. Yes, she must get to it--she must put her hand on it--her chest began to rise and fall with a quickening of her breath, and her breath quickened because her heart fluttered--as if with her haste. She began to be glad, and if any one could have seen her they would have been struck by a curious expectant smile in her eyes. She reached the landing and crossed it, running the last few steps lightly. She did not wait or stand still a moment. With the strange expectant smile on her lips as well as in her eyes, she put her hand upon the door--not upon the handle, but upon the panel. Without any sound it swung quietly open. And without any sound she stepped quietly inside.