"Waal," she at length observed, with a sigh of resignation, "I guess I'm likely to find out what was in it, after all, though"—with a contemptuous sniff—"I don't imagine I'm going to be very much entertained by the operation."
The trunk had been packed full of papers—deeds, letters, bills, etc., which had been tied up in separate bundles, but the strings having given way in the force of the fall, they now lay in confused heaps and irretrievably mixed, as far as Maria was concerned.
She sat down upon the floor and began to gather them up, restoring them in as orderly a manner as possible to the trunk. Among other things she came upon a box which had slid a little to one side of the heap. This, also, had burst open, and its contents were partially spilled out. Reaching for it, she drew it toward her, and was attracted by a pungent odor which clung to it.
It was made from some sweet-smelling, fine-grained wood, and the corners were ornamented with heavily wrought silver, although the metal was badly tarnished from having lain so long unused. There were numerous letters in it, some being addressed in a woman's delicate handwriting and others in a bold, clear, masculine chirography.
"Miss Belle Abbott," Maria read from one of the envelopes addressed in the bold hand.
Then she gave a violent start.
"Goodness—gracious! How came this here?" she ejaculated. "Belle Abbott! Why, that was Cliff's mother's name afore she was married. But I wonder who W. F. T. Wilton was?" she continued as she closely inspected the handwriting on another envelope. "I'm sure Mis' Faxon must have writ these letters, for the writin' looks just like what I've seen in some of Cliff's books that he told me she gave him. But it beats me to know how these things ever got into Squire Talford's old trunk, 'less Mis' Faxon gave them to him to keep for the boy, 'n' if she did he'd oughter had 'em long ago. What's this, I wonder?"
"This" comprised two pieces of parchment attached to each other by a pin. They were folded long and narrow, like legal documents, and were also bound about with a narrow blue ribbon.
With firmly compressed lips and a flushed face, Maria sat regarding them intently, and as if deliberating a point within herself for a few moments.
"I'm going to know," she said at last, in tones of stern decision, and, suiting the action to the words, she deliberately removed the ribbon and pin, unfolded one of the papers, and began to read it with eager interest.