spending many words in arranging and re-arranging, she suddenly wished
that the spinnet could be opened, "If," she exclaimed, "_that_ could
be opened, I should be able to teach Mary Godwin music; and her mother
seemed to wish it so much: surely we can open the instrument?"

"It has not been opened for years," replied Miss Bond; "and I
remember, once before, Mabel wished it opened, and I refused, lest
forcing the lock might harm the marquetre, of which my poor mother was
so fond. It has never been opened since her death." But Mabel's desire
was of too much consequence, in her lover's eyes, to be passed over,
although all seemed agreed that if it were opened it could not be
played upon; so in a few minutes he procured a smith, who said he
would remove the hinges, and then unscrew the lock from the inside,
which would not injure the cover. This was done; but greatly to poor
Mabel's dismay, the cavity, where strings once had been, was filled
with old papers.

"Now, is not this provoking?" said Mabel, flinging out first one and
then another bundle of letters. "Is not this provoking?"

"No, no," exclaimed Sarah Bond, grasping a lean, long, parchment,
round which an abundance of tape was wound. "No. Who knows what may
be found here?" At once the idea was caught, Mabel thought no more
of the strings. "I cannot," said Sarah Bond to Mr. Goulding, "untie
this; can you?" Her fingers trembled, and she sank on her knees by the
clergyman's side. The eyes of the little group were fixed upon him;
not a word was spoken; every breath was hushed; slowly he unfastened
knot after knot; at last the parchment was unfolded; still, neither
Sarah Bond nor Mabel spoke; the latter gasped for breath--her lips
apart, her cheeks flushed; while Sarah's hands were clasped together,