Throughout the remainder of the night she lay awake. Day had scarcely dawned when she rose and dressed. Recollections of the awe which had obsessed her spirit were with her still. She was conscious of an uncomfortable feeling that something unusual was about to happen. So soon as she was dressed she left her own room and went to the bedroom which had been her father's. As she crossed its threshold she had an odd sensation of having come again into his presence. Impelled by she knew not what motive of curiosity, she examined methodically all that the room contained, opening drawers and wardrobes, going through their contents. It seemed to her that they were emptier than they used to be. Her father had accumulated clothes until every store-place he had was filled to over-flowing; she had told him not long ago that if he would keep on getting more, without ridding himself of some of those he had, he would require another room to put them in. She knew he had got rid of nothing, yet drawers and cupboards in bedroom and dressing-room were nearly empty. Certainly more than three-quarters of them were gone; what were left were scarcely more than odds and ends. And not only clothes; as she looked about her she began to miss all sorts of things. Both rooms had been nearly stripped of all her father's personal belongings. By whom had they been taken? who had given the necessary authority? From the bedroom she passed through the still silent house to the rooms below, and presently to her father's study. Here again was some subtle suggestion of its late owner. He seemed to be standing by her as she touched this and that, moving from one familiar object to another. Nor had she been there very long before she perceived that here also things were missing; and, in this case, they were things which mattered. A pair of bronzes had gone from the mantel, for which her father had paid a large sum, and which he valued highly; some ivory antiques, fine specimens of the carver's art, which he had brought with him from China, had also vanished; a Satsuma vase, two costly examples of powder blue, even prints and pictures from the walls, all kinds of curiosities, the possession of which would gladden a collector's heart, had disappeared. Of course their absence was capable of a natural and legitimate interpretation; they might have been put out of sight for safer keeping. Still--they were there on Saturday; she was sure she had noticed them when she came in a moment for some ink; why should they have been removed during the course of yesterday? While she stood looking about her, feeling a little bewildered, the door was opened suddenly, and Morgan, the butler, came hastily in. He stared at her as if she was not at all the person he had expected to see; indeed, he said as much.