On tapping at the door of the cabinet, Laura was bidden by her mistress to come in.
From the expression of Mrs. Calverley's countenance it was clear that something had gone wrong, and the sharp lady's-maid scarcely needed any information on the point when she observed that several of the escritoire drawers were pulled out.
“You can't find something, I perceive, ma'am?” said Laura. “Can I help you?”
“You'll do little good, Laura,” replied the lady. “I've searched these drawers most carefully, and can't find what I want.”
“Is it a letter, may I venture to ask?” said Laura.
“No; it's much more important than a letter,” replied Mrs. Calverley. “Nothing less than my late husband's will.”
“Good gracious, ma'am!” exclaimed Laura. “I hope you haven't lost it?”
“Lost it?—no. Besides, it wouldn't much matter if I had, since the will has been proved, but I can't conceive what has become of it. I placed it in one of those drawers myself. I hope it has not been stolen.”
“It couldn't be stolen, ma'am, if it was safely locked up in one of those drawers,” said Laura. “I wish you'd let me search for it.”
“It will be useless, but you may try.”