"What does it mean?" asked Grace, growing more and more
bewildered, while Mrs. Johnson replied in her favorite mode of
speech.
"The Lord only knows--looks as if he was going to make it a prison
for some princess; but here's the queerest thing of all," and she
thumped upon a massive door, which was locked and barred, and
beyond which her prying eyes had never looked.
Over the door was a ventilator, and Grace, quite as curious as
Mrs. Johnson, suggested that a chair or table be brought, upon
which she, being taller than her companion, might stand and
possibly obtain a view.
"What DO you see?" asked Mrs. Johnson, as Grace, on tip-toe,
peered into what seemed to be a solitary cell, void of furniture
of every kind, save a little cot, corresponding in size with the
fairy bed in the recess, but in naught else resembling it, for its
coverings were of the coarsest, strongest materials, and the
pillows scanty and small.
Acting from a sudden impulse, Grace determined not to tell Mrs.
Johnson what she saw, and stepping down from the table, which she
quickly rolled back to its place, she said,
"It's nothing but a closet, where, I dare say, Mr.
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