‘And I have a letter at home from our great-uncle, Mr. Maynard, expressing distinct disapproval, and speaking in no measured terms of his opinion of Belassis’ share in the matter.’ Maud began to look amused and interested. ‘Old Uncle Maynard wrote about it, did he? Oh, you must let me see the letter! I am sure it will be delightfully funny; he was such a dear, cross old man, and I was always so cheeky to him. The Belassis’ were furious because he took more notice of me than of anybody else, though that didn’t come to much; but I should like to see the letter.’ ‘I’ll show it you when we go in,’ said Tor, and then let the talk glide into other channels. He considered that he had given Maud food for meditation sufficient for one day, and decided not to press for an answer, until she had well thought over the information he had bestowed. Maud did not forget her curiosity about her great-uncle’s letter, and as soon as they returned from their ride she followed Tor into his study, and begged him to produce it. ‘I know it will be so queer!’ she said, a smile of anticipation curving her pretty mouth. Tor unlocked the drawer, and put in his hand. He took out Maud’s letter with the elastic band round it; but no other paper was with it. He pulled open the drawer to its utmost limit, and looked again, but the paper was evidently not there. ‘It’s gone!’ he ejaculated, in some surprise. ‘Try the next,’ suggested Maud. ‘No good,’ he answered, shaking his head. ‘’Twas only the day I left, that I locked up the letters about Tor’s business in the opposite drawer, where I keep everything relating to him; and I opened this one too, and saw old Maynard’s letter lying with yours, strapped together. I could take my oath of it.’ ‘Witchcraft!’ said Maud; and then her face grew grave suddenly, and she added significantly: ‘Witchcraft, or Aunt Celia.’ ‘Couldn’t have been Aunt Celia. The drawer was locked,’ said Tor. ‘Then it must have been a ghost,’ said Maud seriously. ‘For nobody else could have opened a locked drawer.’ The two looked at each other in silence. ‘You think her capable of such an act?’ ‘She is capable of anything.’ Tor considered, and failed to see any motive for the robbery. ‘It was a misanthropical letter, anything but complimentary to the Belassis family; but I can’t see why she should have purloined it. It is not a paper they would care to study long or frequently, I imagine.’ Maud’s face had clouded over. ‘Aunt Celia always knows what she is about. You may be sure that that paper is of more value than you know.’ ‘If so,’ said Tor composedly, ‘I will take care to get it back pretty quickly. I am going over there to-night. In all probability I shall bring it back with me.’ Maud looked admiringly at him, but shook her head. ‘You won’t if Aunt Celia wants it; besides, you cannot ask for it.’ ‘I’m not so sure of that,’ said Tor, and Maud wondered which half of the sentence he was answering.