a moment alone
in the library."

"I wish we had never done it. I do wish we had never done it," Eleanor
murmured pitifully.

"I am ashamed of you, Eleanor," Miss Penfold said coldly. "You are
worse than a child with your laments and complainings. What have we
done? Nothing. We have no certainty that there is a will in existence;
and if we had, it's not our business to assist to carry out a
monstrous wrong against ourselves, and to put that woman's son as
master here. How many times have we talked this over, and it's always
the same. You keep on trembling at shadows."

"I should not care if it was not for the night, Charlotte. I am always
dreaming that Herbert is coming to my bedside and looking so stern and
angry, and saying, 'Let justice be done.'"

"Bah!" Miss Penfold said contemptuously. "You must eat less supper,
Eleanor. If you were not such a coward you would not dream such
things. I have no patience with your folly."

"I know it is foolish, Charlotte, but I can't help it; my nerves were
never as strong as yours. I quite agreed with you from the first about
it. I think it was infamous that Herbert should have passed us over,
and that it is not to be expected we should aid in the discovery of
such a wicked will. Still I can't help being unhappy about it, and
lying awake at night and dreaming. No one can help their dreams."

"Your dreams are a mere repetition of your thoughts," Miss Penfold
said scornfully. "If you worry while you are awake, you will worry
while you are asleep. We have done nothing criminal. We have meddled
with no will, nor hidden one. We simply refuse to aid in the discovery
of an unjust document, and by so doing prevent a great wrong being
done to ourselves. To my mind the thing is perfectly simple, and my
conscience wholly acquits me of any wrong-doing."

Left to herself, Mrs. Conway took an earnest look round the room.
Somewhere no doubt within its limits lay the key of the secret that
would give wealth to Ralph. Where was it? The walls were completely
covered by bookshelves. These were handsomely carved, and dark with
age. One of the Penfolds had evidently been a bookworm, and had spared
no pains and expense in carrying out his hobby. The housemaid had said
that all the books had been removed, and that nothing had been found
behind them. Still there might well be some spring that had escaped
their notice. At any rate the ground must be gone over again.

Then the spring might lie amon