precisely what they
wanted as well as where to get it.

In the picture gallery a portrait of King Charles I (given by himself to
a General Courtenaye of the day) had been cleverly cut out of its frame,
also a sketch of the Long Water at Hampton Court, painted and signed by
King Charles. The green drawing room was deprived of its chief treasure,
a quaint sampler embroidered by the hand of Mary Queen of Scots for her
"faithful John Courtenaye." From the Chinese boudoir a Buddha of the
Ming period was gone, and a jewel box of marvellous red lacquer
presented by Li Hung Chang to my grandmother. The silver cabinet in the
oak dining room had been broken open, and a teapot, sugar bowl, and
cream-jug, given by Queen Anne to an ancestress, were absent. The China
cabinet in the same room was bared of a set of green-and-gold coffee
cups presented by Napoleon I to a French great-great-grandmother of
mine; and from the big dining hall adjoining, a Gobelin panel, woven for
the Empress Josephine, after the wedding picture by David, had vanished.

A few _bibelots_ were missing also, here and there; snuff boxes of Beau
Nash and Beau Brummel; miniatures, old paste brooches and buckles
reminiscent of Courtenaye beauties; and a fat watch that had belonged to
George IV.

"All my pet things!" I mourned.

"Don't say that to any one except me," advised Mrs. Carstairs. "My dear,
_bits of a letter torn into tiny pieces--a letter from you--were found
in the Chinese Room_, and the Insurance people will be hatefully
inquisitive!"

"You don't mean to insinuate that they'll suspect me?" I blazed at her.

"Not of stealing the things with your own hands; and if they did, you
could easily prove an alibi, I suppose. Still, they're bound to follow
up every clue, and bits of paper with your writing on them, apparently
dropped by the thieves, _do_ form a tempting clue. You can't help
admitting it."

I did not admit it in the least, for at first glance I couldn't see
where the "temptation" lay to steal one's own belongings. But Mrs.
Carstairs soon made me see. Though the things were mine in a way, in
another way they were not mine. Being heirlooms, I could not profit by
them financially, in the open. Yet if I could cause them to disappear,
without being detected, I should receive the insurance money with one
hand, and rake in with the other a large bribe from some supposititious
purchaser.

"On the contrary, why shouldn't our brave Bart be suspect