very much. She used to stop and stare at the windows, and wonder what
was going on inside, till at last it seemed as if she _must_ know. So,
one day she took some flowers and Victoria, her favorite doll, and
boldly marched into the Spensers' yard.

She tapped at the front door, but nobody answered. Then she tapped
again. Still nobody answered. She tried the door. It was locked. So
shouldering Victoria, she trudged round to the back of the house. As she
passed the side-door she saw that it was open a little way. She knocked
for the third time, and as no one came, she went in, and passing through
the little hall, began to tap at all the inside doors.

There seemed to be no people in the house, Katy peeped into the kitchen
first. It was bare and forlorn. All sorts of dishes were standing about.
There was no fire in the stove. The parlor was not much better. Mr.
Spenser's boots lay in the middle of the floor. There were dirty glasses
on the table. On the mantel-piece was a platter with bones of meat upon
it. Dust lay thick over everything, and the whole house looked as if it
hadn't been lived in for at least a year.

Katy tried several other doors, all of which were locked, and then she
went up stairs. As she stood on the top step, grasping her flowers, and
a little doubtful what to do next, a feeble voice from a bed-room
called out:

"Who is there?"

This was Mrs. Spenser. She was lying on her bed, which was very tossed
and tumbled, as if it hadn't been made up that morning. The room was as
disorderly and dirty as all the rest of the house, and Mrs. Spenser's