For my own sake, I promised not to do so, but made her explain how she got into the house, and why she entered it.

Then she told me an extraordinary tale.
"For some years, she said, she had been with Mrs.Bensusan, who had taken her from the gypsies to civilise her, and hating the restraint of civilised life, she had been in the habit of roaming about at night.
Knowing that the house at the back was unoccupied, this Rhoda--for that is her name--climbed over the fence and tried to get into it, but found the doors and windows bolted and barred.
"Then one night she saw a kind of grated window amid the grass, and as this proved not to be bolted, she pulled it open.

Taking a candle with her, she went on a voyage of discovery, and dropped through this hole some distance into a disused cellar.

Only a cat could have got in safely, for the height was considerable; and, indeed, Rhoda did not risk that mode of entrance again, for, finding a ladder in the cellar, which, I presume, had been used to get at the higher bins of wine, she placed this against the aperture, and thus was enabled to ascend and descend without difficulty.

Frequently by this means she entered the empty house, and went from room to room with her candle, singing gypsy songs as she wandered.