By the bureau an open bag stood on a chair. There was nothing in this but a book, one of the many treatises on self-development and the achievement of spiritual calm and control. Poor Sybil! Bassett turned away with a sick heart--had she found now what she had been striving for? The dressing-table was the only place in the room that her neat arranging hand had not touched. It was covered with a litter of toilet articles, cold-cream jars, rouge boxes, powders and scents, a silver hand mirror, a pair of long white gloves. Williams picked up a bead bag and opened it. It contained a wisp of handkerchief, a bunch of keys, a lip-stick and a gold change purse. In the central compartment were three five-dollar bills and in the gold purse one dollar and thirty-five cents in coin. “This couldn’t have been all the money she had,” he queried. “Why not?” said Bassett. “I guess some of us haven’t that much. She didn’t need any. All our expenses were paid and she was going straight home. One of those bills was probably intended for Miss Pinkney.” Nothing more came to light. The closets were empty, the bathroom contained a few toilet articles and a nightgown and negligée hanging on the door. Obviously a place swept clean for a coming departure by one who had no premonition that that departure would be final. They passed out and along the hall, Rawson wanting to see the disposition of the passages and stairs. At the door next to Miss Saunders’ he stopped, asking who occupied that room. It was vacant now but had been Joe Tracy’s. He opened the door and looked in upon another chintz-hung chamber, all signs of recent habitation removed that morning by Miss Pinkney’s energetic hand. A steamer trunk in the corner caught his attention and Bassett explained it was young Tracy’s trunk which his sister was to take back to New York with her. Beyond that the hall ran into the gallery passing under an arch of carved wood. They traversed it, looking down into the richly colored expanse of the room below, and fared on under a companion arch into the last stretch of the hall. At the stair-head Rawson halted: “Only two flights connecting with this floor, the one in the front by the library and this. Now the top story--how do you get to that?” Bassett showed them a staircase at the end of the hall. He had never been up there himself, but some one, Mrs. Cornell, he thought, had. It was the servants’ quarters and had not been occupied during their stay, Miss Pinkney and her helper having had rooms on the gallery.