h, giving back as I came forward, his face blanching
only a little, and wearing all the time that yellow smile which so
fitted it.

"You have finished?" says he.

"Ay, I have finished. And now you may order me from this ground you
have robbed me of. But there are some things in that house you shall not
steal, for they are mine despite you."

"Name them, Richard," he said, very sorrowful.

"The articles in my mother's room, which were hers."

"You shall have them this day," he answered.

It was his way never to lose his temper, tho' he were called by the
vilest name in the language. He must always assume this pious grief
which made me long to throttle him. He had the best of me, even now, as
he took the great key from his pocket.

"Will you look at them before you go?" he asked.

At first I was for refusing. Then I nodded. He led the way silently
around by the front; and after he had turned the lock he stepped aside
with a bow to let me pass in ahead of him. Once more I was in the
familiar hall with the stairs dividing at the back. It was cool after
the heat, and musty, and a touch of death hung in the prisoned air.
We paused for a moment on the landing, beside the high, triple-arched
window which the branches tapped on windy winter days, while Grafton
took down the bunch of keys from beside the clock. I thought of my dear
grandfather winding it every Sunday, and his ruddy face and large figure
as he stood glancing sidewise down at me. Then the sound of Grafton's
feet upon the bare steps recalled the present.

We passed Mr. Carvel's room and went down the little corridor over the
ball-room, until we came to the full-storied wing. My uncle flung open
the window and shutters opposite and gave me the key. A delicacy not
foreign to him held him where he was. Time had sealed the door, and when
at last it gave before my strength, a shower of dust quivered in the
ray of sunlight from the window. I entered reverently. I took only
the silverbound prayer-book, cast a lingering look at the old familiar
objects dimly defined, and came out and locked the door again. I said
very quietly that I would send for the things that afternoon, for my
anger was hushed by what I had seen.

We halted together on the uncovered porch in front of the house, that
had a seat set on each side of it. Marlboro' Street was still, the wide
trees which flanked it spreading their shade over walk and roadway. Not
a soul was abroad in the midday he