A mystic sort of tale of the tenements of New York, wherein a strange human flower blossoms and fades all too soon; the tale of a young girl who could make a living things out of pictures.
smiling at her. She had large eyes, a deep dimple near her mouth, and coppery red hair which fell about her cheeks and shoulders. Judith knew her and smiled back at her.
She lifted her hand--and it was a pure white little hand with long tapering fingers.
"Come and play with me," she said--though Judith heard no voice while she knew what she was saying. "Come and play with me."
Then she was gone, and in a few seconds Judith was awake, the air of the room had changed, the noise and clatter of the streets came in at the window, and the Elevated train went thundering by. Judith did not ask herself how the child had gone or how she had come. She lay still, feeling undisturbed by everything and smiling as she had smiled in her sleep.
While she sat at the breakfast table she saw her mother looking at her curiously.
"You look as if you'd slept cool instead of hot last night," she said. "You look better than you did yesterday. You're pretty well, ain't you, Judy?"
There's something very warm and compelling about the writing of Francis Hodgson Burnett. In The Secret Garden, for example, we have a children's story that adults can understand as an allegory that works on social, spiritual, and sexual levels. No Victorian writer understands the secret worlds and sensitivities of children better. "In the Closed Room" is a little gem of a story, a beautiful ghost story that is ultimately a meditation up death. Those who don't understand the Victorian mindset, as usual, will not find this to their liking; but for me, the foundational values that nourished the Victorians often make for refreshing reading today.
Judith is a 7-year old girl who is unusual to say the least.She see's a ghost and communes with her through telepathy and they she eventually "joins" her friend.A short and likeable read.