ous relative was, have you?"

"Yes, I have, but, of course, that's much harder to decide because we
have so little to go on. I'll tell you one thing I've pretty nearly
settled, though. Whatever happened, it wasn't that anybody _died_! When
people die, you're terribly grieved and upset, of course, and you _may_
shut up your house and never come near it again. I've heard of such
things happening. But you generally put things nicely to rights first,
and you don't go away and forget more than half your belongings. If you
don't tend to these things yourself, you get some one else to do it for
you. And one other thing is certain too. You don't turn the dead
relative's picture to the wall or tear it out of your locket and throw
it into the fire. You'd be far more likely to keep the picture always
near so that you could look at it often. Isn't that so?"

"Of course!" assented Cynthia.

"Then it _must_ have been the other thing that happened. Somebody did
something wrong, or disappointing, or disgraceful. It must have been a
dreadful thing, to make the Lovely Lady desert that house forever. I
can't imagine what!"

"But what about the locked-up room?" interrupted Cynthia. "Have you any
theory about that? You haven't mentioned it."

"That's something I simply can't puzzle out," confessed Joyce. "The
Lovely Lady must have locked it, or the disgraceful relative may have
done it, or some one entirely different. I can't make any sense out of
it."

"Well, Joy," answered Cynthia, "you've a theory about what happened, and
it certainly sounds sensible. Now, have you any about what relative it
was? That's the next most interesting thing."

"I don't think it could have been her father or mother," replied Joyce,
thoughtfully. "Parents aren't liable to cause that kind of trouble, so
we'll count them out. She looks very young, not nearly old enough to
have a son or daughter who would do anything very dreadful, so we'll
count _them_ out. (Isn't this just like the 'elimination' in algebra!)'
That leaves only brother, sister, or husband to be thought about."

"You forget aunts, uncles, and cousins!" interposed Cynthia.

"Oh, Cyn! how absurd! They are much too distant. It _must_ have been
some one nearer than that, to matter so much!"

"I think it's most likely her husband, then," decided Cynthia. "He'd
matter most of all."

"Yes, I've thought of that, but here's the objection: her husband,
supposing she had one would probably have ow