The greater part of a week passed, on the whole quietly. There were many ways in which she could make herself useful, and she seldom overlooked them. Dot, from the first, became her abject slave, never content unless following her about; and Pattie could not have too much of Dot. The two were soon warmly devoted each to the other. Cragg could almost have found it in his heart to be jealous, when he saw how readily Dot would at any time quit him to go to Pattie. But he loved little Dot with too real a love not to be glad of anything that was for the child's good, and he knew that Pattie's influence would be for her good.
Mrs. Cragg speedily did become jealous, just as she had always been jealous of the child's greater love for Cragg. Her love was of a lower and smaller nature than his. She always liked to be first for her own sake.
A few days after Pattie's coming to the house, young Waters called with a barrow full of goods, fished up out of the depth into which the building had sunk. No attempt had been made, or was likely to be made, to rescue aught from the greater depth, into which the main mass had poured; but a good many things had been brought up from the level where poor Dale himself had lain. Most of these were so hopelessly crushed and broken as to be worthless. This time, however, a small chest of drawers had been rescued, much damaged, yet with the drawers still full; and two boxes, one open, the other locked.
Mrs. Cragg scented a possible discovery on the instant. Mr. Cragg was away till dinnertime, and Pattie had started for a ramble with Dot, which was likely to keep her away at least another hour; so Mrs. Cragg felt safe. She had the things carried into an unoccupied room, told Waters to call again when her husband should be at home, and set herself to an examination. She was anxious to find out something as to Pattie's past, and for this purpose had already ransacked Pattie's room without avail. Here was a fresh chance.
The chest of drawers contained only clothes. Mrs. Cragg soon satisfied herself on this point. She rapidly pulled out the contents of each drawer in succession, returning the same with equal speed. Then she turned attention to the boxes.
The one which was open held only books. Mrs. Cragg glanced inside a few, to find upon the title-pages "J. Dale," or "Pattie Dale" nothing further. She would not waste more time in that direction. The other small box, very strongly made, was locked. Mrs. Cragg whipped out her bunch of keys, and tried one after another with eagerness. At first her efforts were useless, but all at once the lock yielded, a key turned, and the lid rose. Mrs. Cragg pulled it more widely open, and gazed upon the pile of papers within the box.
Across the top lay a large envelope, endorsed, "From Mr. Peterson," and at the head of the first letter inside was an address, "Sunnyside, Southville,—shire."
Mrs. Cragg looked through the letter. It bore a date two years before this time, and was very kind, even affectionate, begging Mr. Dale not to hurry back, but to take a few days' extra holiday if he felt inclined. Mrs. Cragg put that down and opened another. Much the same in kind. A third and a fourth still gave no information. Then she took up two or three more, and in one she found a difference. Instead of "Dear Mr. Dale," it began "Dear Sir"; instead of "Yours sincerely," it ended "Yours faithfully." Mrs. Cragg's eyes fell on a sentence near the beginning:
"Since you say that you have not done it, and declare yourself incapable of any such act, I can only reply that I sincerely wish things may be so. I have resolved not to prosecute, but it is impossible that I—"
The page ended here, and at this instant the opening of the front door awakened Mrs. Cragg to a sense of her position. She heard Dot's little shrill voice, and Pattie's softer tones asking somebody, "Where was Mrs. Cragg?" In a moment they might come in.