Opening my brown leather bag, I laid the keys which Mr Gray had given me on a slender Queen Anne table, which stood near one of the tapestry recesses. My first task was to arrange them according to size. This occupied me until two o'clock, when a slow, somewhat heavy step on the stairs warned me that Mrs Drake was approaching. I did not want her to see me at my task, and hastened to meet her. She had provided a dainty little lunch for me; not in the kitchen, but in the queer and desolate sitting-room where I had first seen Cousin Geoffrey. I ate my chop off old Sevres china, and drank a refreshing draught of water out of a tall, rose-coloured Flemish glass. I was far too excited to linger long over the meal. The moment I had satisfied my hunger, I ran back to the octagon room, and continued my task of arranging and sorting the keys. I had provided myself with paper and ink, and as I fitted each key to its lock I fastened a label to it. Night overtook me, however, before my work was a quarter done. I put the keys once more into the brown bag--the unsorted ones at the bottom, those with the labels at the top. I went down-stairs, desired Drake to fetch a cab for me, told him I should return to the house early the next day, and took the precious bag containing the keys back to the lawyer's office. He was within, and evidently expecting me. "Well, Miss Rosamund," he said, "and what luck have you had?" "None up to the present," I replied. Then I continued: "There must have been a sad want of order in some person's brain not to have had these keys labelled." "Ah, you have found that out, have you?" "Yes, and I am rectifying the omission." "Good girl--clever, methodical girl." "Here is the bag, Mr Gray; I will come to fetch it early to-morrow." "Oh, you will, will you?" "Certainly; expect me before eleven o'clock." I bade Mr Gray good-night, and took an omnibus which presently conducted me to the neighbourhood of Paddington Station. In course of time I got home. My father and George had arrived before me. It was quite contrary to the doctrines of our house for a woman to assert her independence in the way I was doing. My conduct in staying out in this unwarrantable fashion called forth contemptuous glances from my father, sighs of regret from my gentle mother, and sharp speeches from my brother George. I bore all with wonderful patience, and ran up-stairs to take off my things. As I was arranging my thick hair before the glass, and giving a passing thought to my dear little sister Hetty's curling brown locks, and remembering how deftly she had tried to arrange mine according to modern fashion, a knock came to my door, and George stood outside.