Dick helped in the search, but beyond a stray copy or two of The Prison
Walls must Cast no Shadow, there was no publication to be found at all.
"Wait a bit, father," said Dick suddenly. "What is Notes and Queries like? The only notes and queries I read are contained in a pink paper. They are very amusing but they do not deal with miniatures."
Mr. Hazlewood described the appearance of the little magazine.
"Well, that's very extraordinary," said Dick, "for Aunt Margaret took it away last night."
Mr. Hazlewood looked at his son in blank astonishment.
"Are you sure, Richard?"
"I saw it in her hand as she stepped into her carriage."
Mr. Hazlewood banged his fist upon the table.
"It's extremely annoying of Margaret," he exclaimed. "She takes no interest in such matters. She is not, if I may use the word, a virtuoso. She did it solely to annoy me."
"Well, I wonder," said Dick. He looked at his watch. It was eleven o'clock. He went out into the hall, picked up a straw hat and walked across the meadow to the thatched cottage on the river-bank. But while he went he was still wondering why in the world Margaret had taken away that harmless little magazine from his father's writing-table. "Pettifer's at the bottom of it," he concluded. "There's a foxy fellow for you. I'll keep my eye on Uncle Robert." He was near to the cottage. Only a rail separated its garden from the meadow. Beyond the garden a window stood open and within the room he saw the flutter of a lilac dress.