Desperate and determined now, he went round to the principal office door, but it was locked. Harry drew a long breath, and walked straight to the front door and rang.
The maid who opened drew back to let him pass.
“My father—sister here?”
“In the drawing-room; in with my mistress.”
“No, no,” said Harry hastily, as the maid moved towards the door; “never mind me; I’ll go in soon.”
The woman left him in the hall, and he waited till he heard the kitchen door close, when he walked swiftly and softly to the glass window, and hurried into the office.
The inner office door was open, and he darted in, to hastily look all round, under table, chairs, beneath the book-shelves, among the newspapers that lay in places in a heap; but there was no sign of the missing trinket, and an icy feeling of dread began to grow upon him.
The waste-paper basket!
It was half full, and the locket might easily have dropped in there, but a hasty examination was without avail.
The fireplace!