“Yes, Miss Lindley; the missus had better come up and take your orders.”
“No, Drake; I have no time to waste in that way. Go down-stairs and tell her that I will come to her in the kitchen at two o’clock. Ask her to have a cup of tea for me and a boiled egg, if quite convenient. I shall pay, of course.”
“Oh, miss, there ain’t no need. Mr Gray provides us very liberally. I’ll give the wife your orders, Miss Lindley.”
Chapter Fourteen.
Keys and Locks.
As the saying is, I had my task cut out for me. Never did any one go more nearly mad over the subject of keys than I. Cousin Geoffrey, with all his eccentricities, had in many respects a well-balanced mind. Nothing could have been neater than the queer arrangements of his house. Everywhere there were locked cupboards, locked bureaus, locked chests of drawers, boxes with locks to them, portfolios which could only be opened by fitting a key into a lock. In short, there never was a more thoroughly locked-up house. No wonder the bag which contained Cousin Geoffrey’s keys should prove heavy.
It was one thing, however, for the owner of the said keys to know where to apply each—it was quite another thing for me. To my horror when I unfastened the brown leather bag, I found that the great bunches of keys of all sorts and sizes were unlabelled. When I made this discovery I almost gave up my task in despair. I had to look twice at the ruby ring, and think of the voice which spoke so confidently within its secret chamber before I had the courage to commence my search.
I don’t believe, however, that my heart was a particularly faint one, and after girding myself to the fray, I toiled up-stairs, carrying the bag of keys with me.