I'm not going to stay. And you needn't
wait, Bruce. I can let myself out," she said.
The library was at the end of the hall, almost opposite the front
door, but somewhat cut off from the rest of the house, as it
communicated with no other room.
As Louise entered she pushed the door to behind her. Yes, there was
the volume she wanted on the table. Taking it up and turning to go,
her eyes fell on the corner where Uncle William kept his story
books--books intended for his young guests, which he very much enjoyed
reading himself sometimes, and to which he was constantly adding. As
there seemed to be some new ones, Louise sat down to examine them, and
before she knew it became absorbed. When at length she looked up it
was beginning to grow dark.
"Dear me! what will Aunt Zelie say? I must hurry," she exclaimed, and
running to the door she stopped in bewilderment, for there wasn't any
knob, and yet it was securely latched. She was very much puzzled. For
a few minutes it seemed rather funny to be fastened up in Uncle
William's library, but when all her attempts to open the door failed
it did not seem so much like a joke. She tried pounding on it, but any
noise such small hands might make could not be heard twenty feet away.
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