‘Well, there can be no doubt now that the will was made; the only question is, was it accidentally or purposely destroyed? or is it still in the library at Ladywell, hidden away? As Philip Debenham had the acuteness to put it somewhere out of your reach, it is hardly likely he would ever be weak enough to make away with it himself. I believe it is still there.’ Belassis wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. ‘Old Maynard could not find it.’ ‘Old Maynard would not look with the energy that we shall. If it is there, find it we _must_.’ ‘How?’ asked Belassis vaguely. ‘That remains to be proved. After what has gone before, it may be difficult; but I will make an attempt whilst Philip is away; if that fails, we must consider further.’ Mrs. Belassis did make the attempt without further loss of time. That same afternoon she went over to Ladywell, in order to consult some books of reference in the library. She had done the same thing sometimes in the former owner’s time, as a means of gaining occasional access to her gruff old uncle. In this lay her chief hope, that her visit might pass unremarked, and that she might be allowed to prosecute her search unsuspected. The library at Ladywell was of great size, and contained a really large collection of books. If the will was concealed in one of these, it might be a weary while before it saw the light. Still Mrs. Belassis was not daunted by that thought. If it was there, she would find it, if only opportunity were granted her. The strong probability that, even if in existence, it might lie undiscovered for generations, was but a poor consolation to Mrs. Belassis. So long as she believed it to be there, she could enjoy no rest. Any day some chance might reveal its hiding-place, and then ruin stared them in the face. It must be found by herself or her husband, and destroyed as soon as found, and then perhaps they would know peace again. So Mrs. Belassis went openly to Ladywell, and was shown by her own request into the library. Miss Debenham and Mrs. Lorraine, she was told, were to start in ten minutes’ time for a garden-party. This was good news. Mrs. Belassis took down a few books, and sat down to study them, to give colour to her story in case either lady should come in. It was not many minutes before Maud entered. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled a little as she addressed Mrs. Belassis. ‘Oh, Aunt Celia, I heard you were here. I am afraid you will be disappointed if you stay. I don’t think Phil keeps any of his private papers in the library. Would you not like to go up to his bedroom? I do not know, of course, as I am not specially interested in his correspondence; but I dare say you would find there a good deal you might like to see.’ Mrs. Belassis looked coldly contemptuous. Inwardly she was raging. ‘Such a remark hardly deserves an answer, Maud.’