On going up-stairs, after looking for her mistress in the bed-chamber, where she had left her, Laura proceeded to a small cabinet, in which the late Mr. Calverley was wont to transact his private business, write his letters, and hold consultations with his tenants and others. Here, in a large oak chest, all the old gentleman's deeds and bulky documents were deposited, while an escritoire contained his smaller papers, account-books, and memoranda.

On tapping at the door of the cabinet, Laura was bidden by her mistress to come in.

From the expression of Mrs. Calverley's countenance it was clear that something had gone wrong, and the sharp lady's-maid scarcely needed any information on the point when she observed that several of the escritoire drawers were pulled out.

“You can't find something, I perceive, ma'am?” said Laura. “Can I help you?”

“You'll do little good, Laura,” replied the lady. “I've searched these drawers most carefully, and can't find what I want.”

“Is it a letter, may I venture to ask?” said Laura.

“No; it's much more important than a letter,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “Nothing less than my late husband's will.”

“Good gracious, ma'am!” exclaimed Laura. “I hope you haven't lost it?”

“Lost it?—no. Besides, it wouldn't much matter if I had, since the will has been proved, but I can't conceive what has become of it. I placed it in one of those drawers myself. I hope it has not been stolen.”

“It couldn't be stolen, ma'am, if it was safely locked up in one of those drawers,” said Laura. “I wish you'd let me search for it.”

“It will be useless, but you may try.”

On this, Laura turned over the contents of the drawers, which were chiefly old letters and memoranda, but without success.

“It's gone, no doubt, ma'am,” she said.

“Yes; I felt sure you wouldn't find it,” remarked her mistress. “The occurrence is most vexatious, but I won't worry myself any more about it now. I shall see Mr. Carteret in the morning. You know I've telegraphed to him to come to me?”

“Oh, yes, ma'am; and I guessed what you wanted to consult him about,” rejoined Laura, with a knowing look.

“Tell me, Laura,” said Mrs. Calverley, “what do your fellow-servants say about my engagement with Lord Courland? Speak freely; I should like to know the truth.”

“In general, they are very much pleased, ma'am; but old Mr. Norris is rather afraid he shall lose his place. He fancies his lordship may prefer a younger butler.”

“Well that is just possible,” remarked Mrs. Calverley. “Norris is a faithful old servant, and I am greatly attached to him, but he is growing superannuated.”

“I think it might be prudent to keep him on for a time, ma'am,” said Laura, with a certain significance, “since he has lived so long in the family.”

Mrs. Calverley looked inquiringly at her.

“Has he said anything to you, Laura?”

“Only that he hoped his services might not be forgotten, but he said it in a way that meant a great deal. I think it would be well not to get rid of him at present, ma'am.”

“I have no intention of doing so,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “I have a great regard for him, as you know.”

“So I told him, ma'am.”

“Does he doubt it?”

“He seems uneasy and resentful; and, unless quieted, I think he may make mischief.”

“In that case, his dismissal would be unavoidable. But I hope he will display better judgment. Assure him that I have not the slightest idea of parting with him, and that it will be entirely his own fault if he does not remain here for many years longer.”

“I will tell him what you say, ma'am,” replied Laura; “and I am confident it will give him great satisfaction. You have no further commands for me, I suppose?”

“I would rather you didn't mention down-stairs that the will is missing. It will be time enough to make inquiries about it to-morrow when I have consulted Mr. Carteret. I shall see you again before I retire to rest.”

“Certainly, ma'am,” replied Laura, as she withdrew.

Left alone, Mrs. Calverley locked up all the drawers of the escritoire, and then sat down to reflect.

That the will had been abstracted she now felt certain; but by whom?—and with what design?

At one moment her suspicions alighted on old Norris; but she instantly rejected the supposition, as inconsistent with his character. Besides, she could see no motive for the theft, since the instrument would be valueless to him in every way. Again, how could he know that it was placed in the escritoire?—and had he a key of the drawer? No, no; Norris could not be the thief.

But who else could have taken it?

Unable to answer the question, she turned her thoughts to other matters.

Mrs. Calverley's feelings were of a mingled character. Though pride and triumph predominated, her anxieties had increased, and every step she took seemed fraught with difficulty.

But she shook off all misgivings, and congratulating herself on her splendid achievement, determined at whatever risk, and whatever might be the consequences, to carry out the important arrangement she had made.