Again she paused a moment and glanced around her.

Her face was flushed, and there was moisture in her dark eye.
Oh, pause a little longer and consider, poor Netta! But no.

The sudden flash of sunlight into the room terrifies the thoughtless child, and she goes hastily into the passage.

Quietly she closes her door; stealthily she creeps along.

She makes no sound as she steals, like a thief, through the house where she was born some eighteen summers ago.