Wild Heather by L.T. Meade

I left Aunt Penelope's room. I walked very slowly. My room was next to hers, and the walls between were quite thin; you could almost hear a person talking in the adjoining room. I wanted to be very quiet. I wanted no one to hear me, and yet I could not bear the perfect stillness and the cramped feeling of the tiny room.

I put on my hat, snatched up my gloves and parasol, and ran downstairs. Jonas met me. He looked much excited. He came up to me with his cheeks flushed.