led in less than forty-eight hours that the old
gray rag, and not the blue-green costume, was now the disguise. In
other words, once having tasted the prosperous she had found it the
natural. To go back to poverty was not merely hard; it was contrary to
all spontaneous dictates. Dimly she had supposed that in reverting to
the harness she had worn she would find herself again; but she only
discovered that she was more than ever lost.

Very softly she unlocked her door to peep out at the landing. The
house was ghostly and still, but it was another sign of her
development that she was no longer afraid of it. Space too had become
natural, while dignity of setting had seemed to belong to her ever
since she was born. Turning her back on these conditions was far more
like turning her back on home than it had been when she walked away
from Judson Flack's.

She crept out. It was so dark that she was obliged to wait till
objects defined themselves black against black before she could see
the stairs. She listened too. There were sounds, but only such sounds
as all houses make when everyone is sleeping. She guessed, it was pure
guessing, that it must be about five o'clock.

She stole down the stairs. The necessity for keeping her mind on
moving noiselessly deadened her thought to anything else. She neither
looked back to what she was leaving behind, nor forward to what she
was going to. Once she had reached the street it would be time enough
to think of both. She had the fact in the back of her consciousness,
but she kept it there. Out in the street she would feel grief for the
prince and his palace, and terror at the void before her; but she
couldn't feel them yet. Her one impulse was to escape.

At the great street door she could see nothing; but she could feel.
She found the key and turned it easily. As the door did not then yield
to the knob she fumbled till she touched the chain. Slipping that out
of its socket she tried the door again, but it still refused to open.
There must be something else! Rich houses were naturally fortresses!
She discovered the bolt and pulled it back.

Still the door was fixed like a rock. She couldn't make it out. A
lock, a chain, a bolt! Surely that must be everything! Perhaps she had
turned the key the wrong way. She turned it again, but only with the
same result. She found she could turn the key either way, and still
leave the door immovable.

Perhaps she didn't pull it hard enough. Doors s