g
at her.

"Is it mine?" Hortense asked.

"You may wear it while you are here," said Grandfather, "and sometime
it will be yours for keeps."

"And I won't be afraid of noises or anything," said Hortense.

"Not a thing can hurt you," said Grandfather. "But you must take good
care not to lose it. You had better wear it under your dress, perhaps,
and never take it off. Now, it is long past bedtime."

Hortense thanked her Grandfather and went into the next room to bid her
Grandmother good night. Lowboy, fat and smiling, grinned at her. The
cat on the hearthrug turned his head and regarded her with a long stare
from his yellow eyes. Hortense felt uncomfortable but stared back, and
at last the cat turned away and pretended to wash himself. Now and then
he stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

"He doesn't like me any more than I like him," thought Hortense as she
kissed her Grandmother good night.

"Your candle is on the table in the hall, dear," said Grandmother.
"Would you like Mary to put you to bed?"

But Hortense felt very brave after her exploit in the storeroom;
besides which, her monkey charm gave her a sense of security. She
lighted her candle and set off up the dark winding stairs all alone.

When she reached the second floor, she stopped and looked up the stairs
leading to the third floor. She could see only a little way and she
longed to know what it was like up there, but she felt a little timid
at the thought of all those empty rooms filled with cold, silent
furniture. What was it Grandfather had said? Always to face the thing
one feared.

Hortense marched bravely up the stairs to the hall above. It was like
that on the second floor. Hortense opened one of the many closed doors.
The light from her candle fell upon chairs and dressers sheeted like
ghosts, cold and silent. Hortense shut the door quickly and walked past
all the others without opening them.

At the end of the hall was a door somewhat smaller than the others. It
seemed mysterious, and after hesitating for a moment, Hortense turned
the knob slowly.

A flight of steps rose steeply from the threshold. Hortense peered up.
Above, it was faintly light These must be the attic stairs, Hortense
thought, and the attic was not completely dark because the cupola
lighted it faintly. When the moon was bright, it would be possible to
see quite plainly. Perhaps on such a night or, better, in the daytime,
Hortense would explore the attic