is glance, Plimmer
reddened, her eyes dropped. "I expect any simple key would open it," he
said, briefly.

"Well, sir, I did ask the housekeeper to lend me a bunch of keys. Here
they are," she opened one of the dressing-table drawers. "Perhaps one of
the smaller ones would fit the lock."

It was Vanderlyn who took the keys from her strangely reluctant hand,
and it was he who at last felt the old-fashioned lock yield.

"Now, Pargeter," he said, sharply, "will you please come over here?"

The whole of the inside of the desk was filled with neat packets, each
carefully tied up and docketed; on several had been written, "In the
case of my death, to be burnt;" on other packets, "To be returned to
Madame de Lera in case of my death."

Vanderlyn saw that here at least were none of his letters, and none from
Peggy's child.

"It's no use bothering about any of these," said Pargeter, crossly,
"they can't tell us anything. Why anyone should trouble to keep old
letters is quite beyond me!"

"That little knob that you see there, sir," said Plimmer, in her
diffident, well-trained voice, "is the head of a brass pin; if you draw
it out, sir, it releases the side drawer. I think you will find more
letters there,--at least that is where Master Jasper's letters are, I
know."

She looked furtively at Vanderlyn, and her look said, "If you want to
have the truth you shall have it!"

"I say, how queer!" exclaimed Pargeter. "A secret drawer! eh, Grid?"

"All old pieces of furniture have that kind of thing," said Vanderlyn,
"there isn't any secret about it."

Pargeter fumbled at the brass-headed pin; he pulled it out, and a drawer
which filled up the side of the davenport shot out. Yes, here were more
packets inscribed with the words, "Jasper's letters, written at school,"
and then others, "To be returned to Laurence Vanderlyn in case of my
death;" and two or three loose letters.

"Well, these won't tell us anything, eh, Grid?" Pargeter opened the
first envelope under his hand:--

"Dear Mammy," (he read slowly),

"Please send me ten shillings. I have finished the French
cherry-jam. I should like some more. Also some horses made of
gingerbread. I have laid 3 to 1 on Absinthe. Betting is forbidden,
but as it was Dad's horse I thought I might. My bat is the best in
the school.

"Your loving
"Jasper."

"He's a fine little chap, isn't he, Grid?" Pargeter was fingering
absently a yellowing