to trouble about the
disagreeable people. She did intend to ask Harriet to take her to see the
cunning little Chinese girl, Wee Tu, before she went home, but she had no
other very definite desires.

As for Mrs. Wilson? Barbara had just wisely decided that the woman
belonged to a curious type, which she did not understand and wished to
keep away from. Bab did not admire Mrs. Wilson's methods of playing
jokes. On the other hand it was none of Barbara Thurston's business. So
long as she had put the paper back in Mr. Hamlin's strong box no harm had
been done.

Barbara still had in her possession the key to that strong box. She had
neglected to give it to Harriet, because Harriet had left home so soon
after breakfast. And now that very terrifying person, Mr. William
Hamlin, had returned home, and Barbara Thurston still had the key in her
possession. Even Ruth had gone out. What should she do? She decided to
keep the key until Harriet came back in the afternoon. Then Harriet could
make some sort of explanation to her father. Barbara simply did not have
the courage to tell Mr. Hamlin that she had discovered Mrs. Wilson
tampering with his papers, and that it was she who had found the stolen
paper and locked it up again.

However, fate was certainly against Bab at the present time. A
servant knocked at the door of the next room, where Grace and Mollie
were reading.

"Please," the maid said, "Mr. Hamlin wants to know if Miss Harriet
left a key with you? It is a most important key, and Mr. Hamlin needs
it at once."

Grace and Mollie both shook their heads. No; Harriet had mentioned no
such key to them.

Barbara was waiting in the next room with the door open. She knew her
turn would come next.

"Do you know anything of the key, Miss Barbara?" Harriet's maid inquired.

Of course Bab blushed. She always did at the wrong time.

"Yes, I have the key, Mary," she replied. "Wait a minute, I will get
it for you."

"Do the young ladies know anything of my key?" Mr. William Hamlin's
impatient voice was heard just outside Barbara's door.

Innocently the maid opened it. "Wait a minute, Mr. Hamlin, please. Miss
Thurston says she has the key. She is getting it for you now."

And Barbara had to come to the door herself to present the key to this
dreadful old "Bluebeard."

"I presume my daughter left my key in your charge," Mr. Hamlin
asked coldly.

"No," she declared almost under her breath, hoping her stern host would
either