things
over night. As she was coming back after her fruitless search, she
stopped to peep over the balustrade down the fascinating flight of
stairs, now so long and dark. Just then a little faint ray of light shot
up from below, and met her eyes.

"Why!" she said in gentle surprise, "they're all down-stairs! I guess
they're making something for mamsie--I'm going to see."

So, carefully picking her way over the stairs with her little bare feet,
and holding on to the balustrade at every step, she went slowly down,
guided by the light, which, as she neared the bottom of the flight, she
saw came from the library door.

"Oh, isn't it funny!" and she gave a little happy laugh. "They won't
know I'm comin'!" and now the soft little feet went pattering over the
thick carpet, until she stood just within the door. There she stopped
perfectly still.

Two dark figures, big and powerful, were bending over something that
Phronsie couldn't see, between the two big windows. A lantern on the
floor flung its rays over them as they were busily occupied; and the
firelight from the dying coals made the whole stand out distinctly to
the gaze of the motionless little figure.

"Why! what are you doing with my grandpa's things?"

The soft, clear notes fell like a thunderbolt upon the men. With a start
they brought themselves up, and stared--only to see a little white-robed
figure, with its astonished eyes uplifted with childlike, earnest gaze,
as she waited for her answer.

For an instant they were powerless to move; and stood as if frozen to
the spot, till Phronsie, moving one step forward, piped forth:

"Naughty men, to touch my dear grandpa's things!"

With a smothered cry one of them started forward with arm uplifted; but
the other sprang like a cat and intercepted the blow.

"Stop!" was all he said. A noise above the stairs--a rushing sound
through the hall! Something will save Phronsie, for the household is
aroused! The two men sprang through the window, having no time to catch
the lantern or their tools, as Polly, followed by one and another,
rushed in and surrounded the child.

"What!" gasped Polly, and got no further.

"STOP, THIEF!" roared Mr. King, hurrying over the stairs. The children,
frightened at the strange noises, began to cry and scream, as they
came running through the halls to the spot. Jasper rushed for the
men-servants.

And there stood Phronsie, surrounded by the pale group. "Twas two
naughty men," she sa