get some light and air in here pretty soon. Here's the front hall and
there's the front stairs. The parlor's off to the left. We won't bother
with that yet a while. This little place in here is what Mr. Langley
used to call his 'study.' Halloa! how this door sticks!"

The door did stick, and no amount of tugging could get it open, though
Grace added her efforts to those of Keziah.

"'Tain't locked," commented Mrs. Coffin, "cause there ain't any lock on
it. I guess it's just swelled and stuck from the damp. Though it's odd,
I don't remember--Oh, well! never mind. Let's sweeten up this settin'
room a little. Open a window or two in here. We'll have to hurry if we
want to do anything before it gets dark. I'm goin' into the kitchen to
get a broom."

She hurried out, returning in a moment or two with a broom and a most
disgusted expression.

"How's a body goin' to sweep with that?" she demanded, exhibiting the
frayed utensil, the business end of which was worn to a stub. "More
like a shovel, enough sight. Well, there's pretty nigh dust enough for
a shovel, so maybe this'll take off the top layers. S'pose I'll ever get
this house fit for Mr. Ellery to live in before he comes? I wonder if
he's a particular man?"

Grace, who was struggling with a refractory window, paused for breath.

"I'm sure I don't know," she replied. "I've never seen him."

"Nor I either. Sol was so bad the Sunday he preached that I couldn't go