A fourteen‑year‑old girl, bedridden with a feverish cold, lies alone in an upstairs room of her uncle’s large, old house. Downstairs, her extended family is celebrating, dancing, laughing, skating earlier in the day, while she listens from afar, feeling isolated and miserable. The contrast between the lively festivities below and her dim, shadowy room heightens her sense of exclusion. She tries to distract herself by reading and watching the fire, but the shadows in the oak‑paneled room grow long and unsettling. She wishes someone would visit her, her cousins, or Mrs. Bunting the housekeeper, but no one comes. Her loneliness deepens into a kind of emotional vulnerability that primes the story’s supernatural turn.
As the firelight flickers and the house’s distant noises fade, the girl becomes aware of a presence, a subtle, uncanny intrusion into her solitude. The tale ends on an ambiguous note, leaving the reader unsure whether the girl truly encountered a supernatural being or whether her fever, loneliness, and imagination conjured the experience.
A story about an ill woman in bed who sees her door creak open…chillingly. It is by no means a classic short story, but it does build tension well and the detail portrayed is vivid.