There was no fireplace in the kitchen, but the rusty range was sadly in
need of repair.

"I'm going down cellar," Rose said. "Are you coming?"

"I should say not. Hurry back, won't you?"

Rose went cautiously down the dark, narrow stairway. The light was dim
in the basement but she could see that there was no coal. She went back
and forth several times from bin to window, making notes in a small
memorandum book. She was quite determined that Aunt Francesca should be
able to find no fault with her housekeeping.

When she went back, there were no signs of Isabel. She went from room to
room, calling, then concluded that she had gone back to the carriage,
which was waiting outside.

Rose took measurements for new curtains in all the rooms on the lower
floor, then climbed the creaking stairway. She came upon Isabel in the
sitting-room, upstairs, standing absorbed before an open desk. In her
hand she held something which gleamed brightly, even in the gathering
shadow.

"Isabel!" she cried, in astonishment.

The girl turned and came forward. Her eyes were sparkling. "Look!
There's a secret drawer in the desk and I found this in it. I love
secret drawers, don't you?"

"I never have looked for them in other people's houses," Rose answered,