Miss Meadows could not understand her niece’s exuberance. The key was only an ordinary one so far as she knew, and until that moment she scarcely had noted that the basement was closed off.
The opening of the cellar door had brought a whiff of stale, cool air into the kitchen.
Poised at the head of the long flight of stone stairs, Judy peered down into the darkness. In vain she groped for a light switch.
“I guess the cellar never was equipped with electricity,” she remarked. “I’ll get my flashlight.”
She ran to the bedroom, returning a moment later to find Miss Meadows regarding the stairway with disapproval.
“Need we go down there, Judy?” she asked to discourage her. “Since the door was locked, the cottage owner might prefer us to keep it so.”
“Oh, we can relock the door,” Judy answered, flashing her light over the rough brick wall along the steep stairway. “First though, I want to see what’s below.”
Focusing her light upon the uneven stone steps, she cautiously started down.
“Watch your footing,” she advised Ardeth and her aunt, who followed close behind. “These steps are narrow and worn.”
Miss Meadows remarked that the cellar seemed very old in contrast to the new cottage.