However, Thankful was not in the habit of doing things by halves, so, the feebly sputtering lantern held in her left hand, she opened the door with the other and looked in.

Then she uttered an exclamation of joy.
It was not a closet behind that door, but another room.

A small room with but one little window, low down below the slope of the ceiling.
But this room was to some extent furnished.

There was a bed in it, and a rocking chair, and one or two pictures hanging crookedly upon the wall.
Also, and this was the really important thing, upon that bed was a patchwork comforter.
Thankful made a dash for that comforter.

She set the lantern down upon the floor and snatched the gayly colored thing from the bed.