scouring and scrubbing was going on in all parts of the house. Step-ladders and water-pails graced the hall; the odor of soap-suds and lime filled the air. Serene amid the confusion, Mrs. Roberts applied herself to the overlooking and rearranging the identical wardrobe in the hall, that had so long been the fascination and torment of little Kitty, who, it may well be supposed, was "on hand" during the operation. Demure and useful, she made herself very officious in assisting Mrs. Roberts in her labors, standing, for hours together, to be loaded with the heavy piles of rich old curtains from the shelves, faded long ago, and antiquated table-covers, heavy Marseilles coverlets, that must have made the sleepers of old time ache to turn over under; great packages folded up in linen, through the ends of which Kitty's eager eyes caught glimpses of satin and brocade, and the tarnished buttons of military clothes. Kitty never thought of her aching arms, or her tired little feet; she never took her eyes away, and never lost a movement of Mrs. Roberts, nor a sight of anything before her; and after dinner, following like a kitten at the housekeeper's heels, came back to the fascinating business of disinterring the faded glories of the past.

By three o'clock, the shelves were all emptied and the drawers all taken out; and Mrs. Roberts was just beginning the important business of dusting and wiping them, and restoring their precious contents, when a man from the fields came posting up to the house in the greatest haste, with the intelligence that a pair of the farm-horses had run away, and done no end of damage to themselves and to the man who was driving them, who was now lying below the barn in a state of insensibility, and Mrs. Roberts' assistance was instantly required. It was not a case that admitted of a demur, and the housekeeper bustled off, leaving Kitty with orders to stay where she was, and take care of the things left about till she came back, and, taking the only woman who was upstairs with her, left Kitty in possession of the field.

She did not mean to move the wardrobe, but it was so natural just to try how heavy it was, and if it would really stir! And to her surprise and guilty pleasure, the wardrobe, lightened of its weighty contents, yielded to her touch, and moved a little—a very little—way forward; but enough to show to her eager eyes, in the dark wood-work, a door, over which generations of painstaking spiders had spun their webs unchecked, and where the scourge of Mrs. Roberts' eye had failed, or feared to penetrate. Kitty, holding her breath for fear, turned the knob; it resisted; it was locked, of course, possibly on the outside, and the key might have been taken out. An expedient struck the child's fertile brain; and she darted across the hall, and, possessing herself of the key of the corresponding room, darted back again and applied it to the lock. It fitted, and turned in it; the knob yielded to her eager grasp, and, too near the completion of her wishes now to pause, she wound her lithe figure through the narrow aperture, and pushing open the door, stood within the mysterious room! For a moment, Kitty's heart beat quick; an awe crept over her; for a moment she longed to be out in the sunshine again. But her elastic spirits and indomitable curiosity soon triumphed over the transitory dread inspired by the darkness and solemnity of the deserted chamber, and the close, dead atmosphere, and the unearthly stillness; and, gaining courage every moment, she made her way, with what caution she might, toward the window, undid the fastening, and, pushing up a very little way the heavy sash, turned the blind, and let in a ray of God's blessed sunlight, dim and dull enough, though, through the dusty panes, into this strange room, deserted these many, many years, it would seem, both of God and man. Kitty was a bold child, little given to nervousness or timidity, or she would have shrunk in terror from the weird, fantastic shadows that the dim light showed about the room. But that was not Kitty's way; and, sitting down on a divan by the window, she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin upon her hands, in contemplative fashion, and proceeded to look about her.

What a strange sight it must have been! the slow sunbeam creeping over the faded carpet, and lighting up the dust-covered furniture and the dusky walls. Kitty's glance first turned, naturally enough, to the bed, which, richly curtained and spacious, stood on the left of the door. The curtains were swept back and the bed was made, but it was apparent that some one had occupied it, lying on the outside; the pillows were displaced and crushed, and the coverlet was deranged. That, since the occupation of that some one, the room had never been arranged or touched, seemed evident, from the confusion and disorder that prevailed. The door of the wardrobe on the right was partly open, and a dress was hanging out from it. A shawl, faded beyond recognition, hung upon the chair near Kitty, and at her feet lay a slipper—such a slim, pretty little slipper! while on the toilette table, you could have sworn, a hasty hand had just dropped the stopper in that odor-bottle, and pushed back the glove-box that stood open under the glass.

Pins rusted in the embroidered cushion; dust inch thick on the mirror and over all, told of a dreary space since any human face had been reflected there. Upon a little table by the window stood a work-box and some books, and in a slender vase, the ghosts of some flowers that fell to dust at Kitty's touch. But what most excited her wonder, was a picture, that, with its face to the wall, was placed on the floor near the door. It evidently did not belong to the furniture of the room, and had been put there hastily, and to be out of the way. Kitty surveyed it from her seat curiously, and at last crept up to it, and turned it around, then slipping down on the carpet before it, was soon lost in admiration of the lovely face it presented to her.

The lustre of the dark-blue eyes, and the delicate outline of the oval face, from which large wavy curls of fair hair were pushed back with girlish freedom, stamped themselves indelibly upon Kitty's retentive memory. It must have been an odd sight; the eager child, in that dark, uncanny room, upon her hands and knees before the picture, watching it in utter fascination, forgetful of the passing moments, and of all save the sweet face so strangely banished from the light.

But the heavy shutting of the hall door, and the sound of voices in the hall below, put a sudden period to these fancies, and brought her to her feet with a desperate start and a pang of genuine fear. This was a tangible terror, and as such, Kitty's common sense succumbed to it. With nervous haste, she restored the picture, flew across the room and drew down the window, and made the best of her way back toward the door. But in her haste, her feet became entangled in something, and tripping up, in an instant she lay at full length on the floor. She disengaged her feet from the impediment that had caused her fall; it was a long ribbon, and a locket was attached to it; hastily thrusting them into her bosom, she picked herself up, and sprang toward the door. Steps were already mounting the stairs; a voice she knew too well was already audible; the unused lock grated and creaked cruelly under the nervous hands that struggled with it; but, with the strength of terror, she mastered it at last—locked it, dropped the key in her pocket, slipped through the narrow space between the wall and the wardrobe, with an eager push restored the latter to its place, and before Mrs. Roberts reached the landing, stood, a pallid, trembling, but undetected culprit, among the piles of valuables she had been left to guard. The habitual darkness of that end of the hall, increased by the near approach of twilight, screened her white cheeks from the scrutiny of Mrs. Roberts' searching eyes, and the haste that lady was in to restore the wardrobe to its ancient and uninterrupted order, further favored her escape.

But she fully