her eyes, and she hesitated a little before opening the sealed envelope.

It was strange to realize that here was some message for her from
Patrick himself, but that no matter what the envelope might contain,
she would be able to give back no answer, make no reply. The knowledge
seemed to set him very far away from her, and for a few moments she
sobbed quietly, feeling utterly solitary and alone.

Presently she brushed the tears from her eyes and slit open the flap of
the envelope. Inside was a half-sheet of notepaper wrapped about a small
old-fashioned key, and on the outer fold was written: "_The key of the
Chippendale bureau_." That was all.

For an instant Sara was puzzled. Then she remembered that amongst
Patrick's personal bequests to her had been that of the small mahogany
bureau which stood near the window of his bedroom. It had not occurred
to her at the time that its contents might have any interest for her; in
fact, she had supposed it to be empty. But now she realized that there
was evidently something within it which Patrick must have valued, seeing
he had guarded the key so carefully and directed its delivery to her
through the reliable hands of his solicitor.

Rather glad of anything that might help to occupy her thoughts, she
decided to investigate the bureau at once, and accordingly made her way
to Patrick's bedroom.

On the threshold she paused, her heart contracting painfully as the
spick and span aspect of the room, its ordered absence of any trace of
occupation, reminded her that its one-time owner would never again have
any further need of it.