hite House was now the most interesting place in the world.

Be sure that Molly set to work at once to look for the missing will.
London detectives were very careless; she was certain they were. She
opened drawers and felt in the backs of cupboards; she prodded the
padding of chairs, listening for the crackling of paper inside among the
stuffing; she tapped the woodwork of the house all over for secret
panels; but she did not find the will.

She could not believe that her Great-uncle Carruthers would have been so
silly as to burn a will that he knew might be wanted at any moment. She
used to stand in front of his portrait, and look at it; he did not look
at all silly. And she used to look at the portrait of handsome, laughing
Mr. Sheldon, who had been killed out hunting instead of marrying Aunt
Maria, and more than once she said:

'You might tell me where it is; you look as if you knew.'

But he never altered his jolly smile.

Molly thought of missing wills from the moment her eyes opened in the
morning to the time when they closed at night.

Then came the dreadful day when Uncle Toodlethwaite and Mr. Bates came
down, and Uncle Toodlethwaite said:

'I'm afraid there's no help for it, Maria; you can delay the thing a
bit, but you'll have to turn out in the end.'

It was on that night that the wonderful thing happened--the thing that
Molly has never told to anyone except me, because she thought no one
could believe it. She went to bed as usual and to sleep, and she woke
suddenly, hearing someone call 'Molly, Molly!'

She sat up in bed; the room was full of moonlight. As usual her first
waking thought was of the missing will. Had it been found? Was her aunt
calling her to tell the good news? No, the room was quite still. She was
alone.

The moonlight fell full on the old black and red and gold cabinet; that,
she had often thought, was just the place where a will would be hidden.
It might have a secret drawer, that the London detectives had missed.
She had often looked over it carefully, but now she got out of bed and
lighted her candle, and went over to the cabinet to have one more look.
She opened all the drawers, pressed all the knobs in the carved
brasswork. There was a little door in the middle; she knew that the
little cupboard behind it was empty. It had red lacquered walls, and the
back wall was looking-glass. She opened the little cupboard, held up her
candle, and looked in. She expected to see her own f