as
seized with a desire to know what the smallest of the keys on the bunch
belonged to.

On the table I saw, among many other things, a padlocked portfolio,
and at once felt curious to see if that was what the key fitted. My
experiment was crowned with success. The portfolio opened and disclosed
a number of papers. Curiosity so strongly urged me also to ascertain
what those papers contained that the voice of conscience was stilled,
and I began to read their contents. . . .

My childish feeling of unlimited respect for my elders, especially for
Papa, was so strong within me that my intellect involuntarily refused to
draw any conclusions from what I had seen. I felt that Papa was living
in a sphere completely apart from, incomprehensible by, and unattainable
for, me, as well as one that was in every way excellent, and that any
attempt on my part to criticise the secrets of his life would constitute
something like sacrilege.

For this reason, the discovery which I made from Papa's portfolio left
no clear impression upon my mind, but only a dim consciousness that I
had done wrong. I felt ashamed and confused.

The feeling made me eager to shut the portfolio again as quickly as
possible, but it seemed as though on this unlucky day I was destined to
experience every possible kind of adversity. I put the key back into the
padlock and turned it round, but not in the right direction. Thinking
that the portfolio was now locked, I pulled at the key and, oh horror!
found my hand come away with only the top half of the key in it! In vain
did I try to put the two halves together, and to extract the portion
that was sticking in the padlock. At last I had to resign myself to the
dreadful thought that I had committed a new crime--one which would be
discovered to-day as soon as ever Papa returned to his study! First of
all, Mimi's accusation on the staircase, and then that one mark, and
then this key! Nothing worse could happen now. This very evening
I should be assailed successively by Grandmamma (because of Mimi's
denunciation), by St. Jerome (because of the solitary mark), and by Papa
(because of the matter of this key)--yes, all in one evening!

"What on earth is to become of me? What have I done?" I exclaimed as
I paced the soft carpet. "Well," I went on with sudden determination,
"what MUST come, MUST--that's all;" and, taking up the bonbons and the
cigars, I ran back to the other part of the house.

The fatalistic formula w