She switched on the hall light.

The house sounded hollow and deserted, a fact which afforded her considerable satisfaction.

She turned the light out and found her way up the broad stairs to the first floor, paused for a moment to switch on another light which she knew would not be observable from the street outside and mounted the second flight.
Miss Belinda Mary Bartholomew congratulated herself upon the success of her scheme, and the only doubt that was in her mind now was whether the boudoir had been locked, but her father was rather careless in such matters and Jacks the butler was one of those dear, silly, old men who never locked anything, and, in consequence, faced every audit with a long face and a longer tale of the peculations of occasional servants.
To her immense relief the handle turned and the door opened to her touch.

Somebody had had the sense to pull down the blinds and the curtains were drawn.

She switched on the light with a sigh of relief.
Her mother's writing table was covered with unopened letters, but she brushed these aside in her search for the little parcel.