troubles had so
occupied her mind of late that she had almost forgotten Mr. Richards;
but now her old curiosity returned in full force.

"If he has gone out," thought Rose, "what is to hinder me from seeing
his rooms. I would give the world to see them!"

She stood for a moment irresolute.

Then, impulsively, she seized a dressing-gown, covered her bright head
with the shawl, opened her door softly, and peeped out.

All still and deserted. The night-lamp burned dim at the other end of
the long, chilly passage, but threw no light where she stood.

The green baize door stood temptingly half open; no creature was to be
seen--no sound to be heard. Rose's heart throbbed fast; the mysterious
stillness of the night, the ghostly shimmer of the moonlight, the
mystery and romance of her adventure, set every pulse tingling, but she
did not hesitate. Her slippered feet crossed the hall lightly; she was
beside the green door. Then there was another pause--a moment's
breathless listening, but the dead stillness of midnight was unbroken.
She tip-toed down the short corridor, and looked into the room. The
study was quite deserted; a lamp burned on a table strewn with books,
papers, and writing materials. Rose glanced wonderingly around at the
book-lined walls. Mr. Richards could pass the dull hours if those were
all novels, she thought.

The room beyond was unlit, save by the moon shining brightly through the
parted curtains. Rose examined it, too; it was Mr. Richard's bedroom,
but the bed had not been slept in that night. Everything was orderly and
elegant; no evidences of its occupant being an invalid. One rapid,
comprehensive glance was all the girl waited to take; then she turned to
hurry back to her own room, and found herself face to face with Ogden.

The valet stood in the doorway, looking at her, his countenance wearing
its habitual calm and respectful expression. But Rose recoiled, and
turned as white as though she had been a ghost.

"It is very late, Miss Rose," said Ogden calmly. "I think you had better
not stay here any longer."

Rose clasped her hands supplicatingly.

"Oh, Ogden! Don't tell papa! Pray, don't tell papa!"

"I am very sorry, Miss Rose, but it would be as much as my place is
worth. I must!"

He stood aside to let her pass. Rose, with all her flightiness, was too
proud to plead with a servant, and walked out in silence.

Not an instant too soon. As she opened her door, some one came upstairs;
s