was nothing in the looking-glass cupboard.

All the same, she ran straight to her aunt's room. It was long before
the hour when Clements soberly tapped, bringing hot water.

'Wake up, auntie!' she cried.

And auntie woke up, very cross indeed.

'Look here, auntie,' she said, 'I'm certain there's a secret place in
that cabinet in my room, and the will's in it; I know it is.'

'You've been dreaming,' said Aunt Maria severely; 'go back to bed.
You'll catch your death of cold paddling about barefoot like that.'

Molly had to go, but after breakfast she began again.

'But why do you think so?' asked Aunt Maria.

And Molly, who thought she knew that nobody would believe her story,
could only say:

'I don't know, but I am quite sure.'

'Nonsense!' said Aunt Maria.

'Aunty,' Molly said, 'don't you think uncle might have given the will to
Mr. Sheldon to take to Mr. Bates, and he may have put it in the secret
place and forgotten?'

'What a head the child's got--full of fancies!' said Aunt Maria.

'If he slept in that room--did he ever sleep in that room?'

'Always, whenever he stayed here.'

'Was it long after the will-signing that poor Mr. Sheldon died?'

'Ten days,' said Aunt Maria shortly; 'run away and play. I've letters to
write.'

But because it seemed good to leave no stone unturned, one of those
letters was to a cabinet-maker in Rochester, and the groom took it in
the dog-cart, and the cabinet-maker came back with him.

And there _was_ a secret hiding-place behind the looking-glass in the
little red lacquered cupboard in the old black and red and gold cabinet,
and in that secret hiding-place was the missing will, and on it lay a
brown flower that dropped to dust when it was moved.

'It's a Christmas rose,' said Molly.

* * * * *

'So, you see, really it was a very good thing the others pretended to
have measles, because if they hadn't I shouldn't have come to you, and
if I hadn't come I shouldn't have known there was a will missing, and if
I hadn't known that I shouldn't have found it, should I, aunty, should
I, uncle?' said Molly, wild with delight.

'No, dear,' said Aunt Maria, patting her hand.

'Little girls,' said Uncle Toodlethwaite, 'should be seen and not heard.
But I admit that simulated measles may sometimes be a blessing in
disguise.'

All the young Carruthers thought so when they got the five pounds that
Aunt Maria sent them. Miss Simpshall got five