With a beating heart, she betook herself to the back parlor. She found the book-cases all locked but one, which seemed to contain nothing, only odd bound volumes of magazines and old newspapers. From these, Calista extracted some numbers of the "Gentleman's Magazine" and a couple of volumes of "La Belle Assemblée," which she laid aside, intending to carry them to her room. She then closed the doors and proceeded to examine the drawers under them. They contained nothing but rubbish—bits of old fancy work and such like—but in one of them she discovered a pretty leather working-case or equipage, as is used to be called, containing a still serviceable pair of scissors. This she put in her pocket, not without some misgivings. Then she went out to the kitchen, and finding all still, she returned and tried the door of her grandfather's room. It was locked, as she expected, but as she gave the door a push, something fell within, the lock turned in her hand, and the door opened. Astonished and almost terrified at her own success, she examined the door, and perceived that the socket which held the bolt had fallen through the decay of the wood. She looked round her. The room was almost dark, but a little light came through the round holes in the top of the shutters, enough to show her the old mahogany desk and arm-chair, the silent clock, and the once rich Turkey carpet which partly covered the floor, and from which quite a cloud of little moths rose up as she stepped upon it. Over the mantlepiece hung a portrait which she supposed to be that of her grandmother, and under it a beautiful painted miniature of a little boy. [Illustration: _Old Stanfield House._ She advanced to the desk and lifted the lid.] "That was my father, I suppose," said Calista to herself. "I am glad grandfather kept his picture, at any rate." She advanced to the desk and lifted the lid. It was empty, save for a few papers which did not seem to be of any special value; only old bills and leases. There was a recess in which lay an old-fashioned gold seal; Calista took it up, and put her hand back to see if there was anything else. There was nothing; but as she felt about, she touched a spring, a small cupboard door opened, and she saw, lying upon its shelves, half a dozen or more bright gold pieces of different sizes. A strange feeling came over Calista at this sight—almost like that of a starving man at the sight of food. She saw the gold, and felt as if she must have it at any price—at any risk. "It is yours by right," something said to her; "that and a great deal more. Take it. Take a part of it, at any rate. Very likely Miss Priscilla does not know of its existence, and will never miss it. She never comes into this room. Take the gold. Who has a better right?"