"I don't know. It was my father's. He always had it locked. He kept his papers there." "You'll have to read them now, of course." Pattie was silent. "You'll have to read them all now," repeated the other. "I don't—know." "Why, it's yours now. Of course it is. Whose else could it be? Don't you understand? You'll find out in that box everything your father didn't tell you." Mrs. Cragg meant to awaken the girl's curiosity, but her words had a precisely opposite effect. "Yes, perhaps. But I don't wish to find out anything my father did not wish me to know—anything he did not tell me." "Really! I never did see such a girl. Why, everybody reads other people's papers after they're dead." "Do they? I am not sure that I shall. At any rate, I shall not yet—not in a hurry. I think I will wait." "There might be something or other that wants attending to. How do you know there isn't money inside?" "No, he would have told me that." "I suppose you've got the key?" "I have—his keys." Pattie's eyes were full. "And you don't mean to unlock it? You don't mean to see what is inside?" "Not yet. I'll wait and think. I don't feel sure what I ought to do." "Why, of course you ought to do what anybody else would do. As if it made any difference now—to him, I mean. Everybody does it always. The papers are yours, and you'll be expected to know what they are about." Pattie moved towards the door. "I should like to wait," she repeated gently. "It cannot matter to anybody except myself. I will have the things in my room—by-and-by." "Well, I can only say I never came across such a girl!" declared Mrs. Cragg aloud, as Pattie went away. CHAPTER IX What Mr. Peterson Had Said THE sentence which Mrs. Cragg had read haunted her. Not that she was able to recall the precise words. Her eyes had run over the lines hastily, and the fright of Pattie's unexpected return had left confused impressions. She was, however, disposed rather to magnify than to minimise what had been written, and one portion of the sentence recurred clearly, "I have resolved not to prosecute." Then there had been something for which this Mr. Peterson might have prosecuted Mr. Dale. Something so serious in its nature, that Mr. Dale could have been had up in a court of justice, and possibly could even have been condemned to penal servitude. In which case Pattie would have been the child of a convict. Mrs. Cragg leaped in a hurry to this conclusion, with very little to build upon. She found some gratification in it. Had she not taken a dislike to Mr. Dale at first sight? Had she not known by instinct that he was not a dependable person? Had she not warned Mr. Cragg to have nothing to do with him? Here was proof of her sagacity.