"Who else went into Miss Hereford's room last evening?"
"Why, sir, how can I tell?" returned Harriet, after a pause of surprise. "What I have to do in the room does not take five minutes, and I am not anigh it afterwards. Twenty folks might go in and out without my knowing of it."
That both the girls were innocent there could be no question. Then who was guilty? In undrawing the curtains that morning I must have pulled the bag off the window-seat, which caused me not to see it. Hill went into a fit of temper when she heard of the affair.
"I don't believe there's one of the maids would do such a thing, Mr. Harry. What should they want with other folk's letters? And where would they get gum from to stick them down?"
"There's some gum on my mantelpiece, Hill: I use it with my drawings," I said to her.
"Ah, well, gum or no gum, they'd not cut open letters," was Hill's reply, given with obstinacy.
"There must be false keys in the house, Mr. Chandos," I began, as Hill went out.
"There's something worse than that—a spy," was his answer. "Though the one implies the other."
And I thought I could have put my hand upon her—Lizzy Dene. But it was only a doubt. I was not sure. And, being but a doubt, I did not consider I ought to speak.
Some days elapsed with nothing particular to record, and then some money was missed. Mr. Chandos and I were together as usual in the oak-parlour. Opening his desk, he called out rather sharply, and I looked up from my work.