"I think of going in for secretarial work," she answered. "As a matter of fact, I had a training for that, in Sellithwaite. Typewriting, correspondence, accounts, French, German—I'm pretty well equipped."
"Don't think me inquisitive," said Hetherwick, suddenly. "I hope your grandfather hasn't forgotten you in his will—I heard he'd left one!"
"Thank you," replied Rhona. "He hasn't. He left me everything. I've got about three hundred a year—rather more. But that's no reason why I should sit down, and do nothing, is it?"
"Good!" said Hetherwick. "But—if that sealed packet could be found? What was worth a hundred thousand to him, would be worth a hundred thousand to his sole legatee. Worth finding!"
"I wonder if anything will be found?" she answered. "The whole thing's a mystery that I'm not even on the edge of solving."
"Time!" said Hetherwick. "And—patience."
He went away presently, and strolled round to Brick Court, where Kenthwaite had his chambers.
"Doing anything?" he asked, as he walked in.
"Nothing," replied Kenthwaite. "Go ahead!"
Hetherwick sat down, and lighted his pipe.