with him, he recommended her to get a proper, ordained
duster, and undertake that part of the programme herself. So presently
she was quite busy, for Aubrey tossed the books out much faster than she
could dust and examine them. Very discoloured, mouldy-smelling old books
they were, of a remarkably uninteresting character generally, which
perhaps accounted for their long abandonment to the dust and damp of
that unused apartment. When the case was emptied, and the contents piled
upon the floor, Aubrey said, "Now lend us a hand to pull the old thing
out, and see what's behind."

"Spiders," replied Katie promptly, edging back.

"I'll have the satisfaction of a gentleman of the first spider that
looks at you," said Aubrey, reassuringly. "Come, catch hold!"

So Katie "caught hold;" and between them they managed to drag the
cumbrous piece of furniture sufficiently far out of the recess in which
it stood for the boy to slip behind. The half-high wainscoting had in
one place dissolved partnership with the wall; and obeying an impulse
for which he could never account, Aubrey dived behind, fishing out,
among several odd leaves and dilapidated covers, a small hymn-book bound
in red leather. Kate took it to the window to examine, for the light was
fading fast. On the fly-leaf was written in childish, curly-tailed
letters, "Anna Clare; July 1815," followed by the exquisite poetical
stanza commencing,--

"The grass is green, the rose is red;
Think of me when I am dead,"

which she read aloud to her brother. A minute afterwards, as she turned
the brown-spotted leaves, there fell out a packet, a letter
superscribed, "Miss Anna Clare; to be read on her twenty-first birthday,
and when quite alone." Katie gasped, "Oh, look!" and dropped the paper
as if it burned her fingers. Aubrey sprang forward, prepared to slay a
giant spider, but when his eyes fell upon the writing which had so
startled his sister, he too seemed petrified. They gazed fixedly into
each other's eyes for a minute, then Aubrey said emphatically,--

"It's _that_!" And both rushed precipitately downstairs, exclaiming,
"Auntie, auntie, we've found it!"

Now Miss Clare was just partaking of that popular refreshment "forty
winks," and was some time before she could understand what had so
greatly excited her young relations; but when at last it dawned upon
her, she hastily brought out her spectacles, and lit the lamp, while
every moment seemed an hour to the impa