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were no other doors, who had been moving around?

To do what? No one had come down the stairs. "Hello?'" I called, wondering if someone was

deeper in the room, perhaps behind some costuming.

There was no response. I walked in further and then

followed the aisle on my right, past the rows of

costumes organized by century and style, from the

Middle Ages to the Roaring Twenties, with lots more

from other eras and styles on the opposite side of the

room.

I reached the rear of the room and started to go

around the other side in order to return to the doorway

when I saw what I realized was another door, behind a

pair of gowns that looked like they could have been

worn by Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind. Where did this door go? It had a key in the

lock. Why was it practically hidden from sight, I

wondered. and I lifted the gowns away to turn the lock

and then try the knob. It turned, but the door opened to another door. Still curious. I put my ear to that door and listened. I thought I could hear someone singing to the music of what sounded like a mandolin. I knew

the sound well. It was a form of lute.

"Who's in here?" I heard, and spun around to

see Laura Fairchild in the doorway. She seemed to

swell in the doorway, her neck stretching, her eyes

beaming with rage.

As quietly as I could. I closed the door, locked

it again and stepped out into the aisle.

"Honey? What are you doing here?" she

demanded.

"I was just curious," I said. "I heard about the

costumes and wanted to see them."

"I've already instructed Howard and Cinnamon

not to touch anything in here again until they are told