he key of Miss Nelson's cupboard.

"Put it in the lock of the cupboard behind you, my boy. I am glad it
is found--truly glad. I thought I could not have put it away. And yet
Ermengarde seemed so sure that it was not in the lock when she was in
the room."

"Oh, it fell out, I suppose," said Basil. He was not interested in the
key, and he stood up now, prepared to go.

"Those photographs I spoke about are in the cupboard, Basil. I could
not bring them to you because I could not find the key. Would you like
to see them now?"

"Thanks," said Basil. "Perhaps, if you don't mind, I had better look
at them by daylight."

When Basil said this, Miss Nelson also stood up. He looked at her,
being quite sure now she would wish him good-night and let him go. Her
eyes had a peculiar, terrified, staring expression. She rushed to the
mantelpiece; then she turned and grasped the boy's arm.

"Basil," she said, "the picture is gone!"

"What picture?" he asked. He was really frightened at the anguished
expression in Miss Nelson's matter-of-fact face.

"Mine," she answered, clasping his hand tighter. "My treasure, the
picture of my----" here she broke off. "It is gone, Basil--see, and
another put in its place! My miniature is gone! it has been stolen!"

"No, no," said Basil. "It couldn't have been. People don't steal
pictures at the Chase. There are no thieves. Let me look for it for
you."

"My miniature--my portrait. I don't speak of it--I can't!" Her voice
shook. "No, no; it is gone. You see, Basil, it always hung here, and
now another has been put on the same hook. That shows that the deed
was intentional; the miniature is stolen!"

She sat down and clasped her hands over her face; her thin long
fingers trembled.

"I'm awfully sorry for you," said Basil. He could not understand such
emotion over any mere picture, but he had the kindest of hearts, and
distress of any sort always moved him.

"I'm awfully sorry," he repeated.

Miss Nelson looked up at his tone.

"Basil," she said, "when you have very few things to love, you value
the few intensely. I did--I do. You don't know, my boy, what it is to
be a lonely woman. May you never understand my feelings. The miniature
is gone; it was stolen, purposely."

"Oh, we'll find the thief," said Basil. "If you are sure the picture
was taken, we'll make no end of a fuss, and my father will help. Of
course you must not lose anything you value in this house. You shall
have it back;