"The wind had grown terrific, and, all of a sudden, it just took one of the shutters of that lighted room, and ripped it from its fastening, and threw it back against the wall. And the next moment a figure hurried to the window, leaned out, and drew the shutter back in place again. But just for one instant I had caught a glimpse of the whole inside of the room! And what do you suppose I saw, Jan?"
"What?" demanded Janet.
"Well, not much of the furnishing, except a lighted oil-lamp on a table. But, directly in the center of the room, in a perfectly enormous armchair sat—a woman! And it wasn't the one I'd seen in the afternoon, either. I'm sure of that. I couldn't see her face, for it was in shadow, but she was looking down at something spread out on her lap. And she held her right hand over it in the air and waved it back and forth, sort of uncertainly. You can't imagine what a strange picture it was—and then the shutter was closed. There was something so weird about it all.
"If I was curious before, I was simply wild with interest then. It seemed as if I must know what it all meant—what that strange old lady could be doing, sitting there in state in the middle of the room, and all the rest of it. You don't blame me, do you, Jan?"
"Indeed I don't! I'd be ten times worse, I guess. But what about the secret? And did you find out anything else?"
"Yes, I did. And that's the secret. The whole mysterious thing is in the secret, because no one but you knows I'm the least interested in the affair, and I don't want them to—now! I'll tell you what happened next."
But just at this moment they were interrupted by a knock at the door, and a voice inquiring:
"Girls, girls! haven't you gone to bed yet? I've heard you talking for the last hour."
"No, Aunt Minerva!" answered Marcia, "we are sitting by the window."
"Well, you must go to bed at once! It's nearly midnight. You won't either of you be fit for a thing to-morrow. Now, mind, not another word! Good-night!"