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no particular value in her eyes. However, I made no remark expressive of my surprise, but only said,—

      "Let us have your reasons, Polly."

      "Yes," Harry repeated, "let us have your reasons."

      Polly was again silent a little, and sat thoughtfully twining her long taper fingers one over the other; then without looking up she asked,—

      "Is it understood and agreed between us that two votes carry the day?"

      "Certainly," I said, knowing that my vote would be on Harry's side.

      "Quite so," Harry agreed, "if you two girls make up your minds that it is best to accept this offer, I, as I said before, shall offer no objection."

      "Well then, Harry, I say—accept, and I will tell you why;" and now, although Polly had not changed her attitude, she spoke clearly and firmly, and her eyes were fixed on the fire with a steady resolute look. "But you must both agree not to interrupt me till I have done."

      "I promise," Harry said, looking rather puzzled at Polly's very unusual demeanour.

      "I promise," I repeated, amused and rather surprised, too.

      "Very well," Polly said, "please remember that. Now, Harry, you are a great big strong fellow, but you know you are hardly fit to entrust any delicate business to, and that in any affair of that sort you would know no more than a child."

      "Well, Miss Polly," Harry said in astonishment, taking his pipe out of his mouth, "you are a pretty cool hand to talk to your elders; what next, I wonder!"

      "You promised not to interrupt, Harry. As I said, you are very good and kind, and all that, but you know you are not—not so to say sharp."

      I could hardly help laughing, Harry's eyes opened so very wide in amazement at the girl's remarks, and Polly herself was looking so very serious and earnest.

      "Now we women——"

      "We women, indeed!" Harry repeated.

      "Yes, we women," Polly continued unmoved,—"I have left school now, and I am more of a woman as far as these things go than you are of a man—we women look very deeply into these matters. Now there is only one of us three, who, as we stand at present, will be greatly affected by this gift. I do not say that £10,000 is not a nice sum to have, or that it might not some day assist me to get a husband, but at present I can manage very well without one——"

      "I should think so," put in Harry.

      "And you can get on without it, and keep yourself comfortably. Therefore to us the money has no peculiar charms at present, and we might both be rather disposed to refuse it, than to accept it as a gift from people who have robbed us of a large sum. There is a good deal in that, Harry, is there not?"

      Harry nodded; he had not yet sufficiently recovered from the astonishment into which the position of superiority taken up by Polly had thrown him, while I on my part could not fancy what was coming next.

      "Well you see, Harry, we have agreed that we neither of us are in a position rightly to estimate the value of this £10,000 at present. Now Agnes, on the contrary, is in a position to appreciate it keenly."

      Here Harry again opened his eyes, and looked at me with such astonishment, that I really thought he must fancy that I wanted the money to pay off a gambling debt or something of that sort.

      "Agnes appreciate it!" he exclaimed.

      "Of course," Polly said; "and please do not interrupt me so, Harry. Now this £10,000 will, in all probability, be the turning-point in Agnes's life, and her future happiness or unhappiness may depend upon it. Let us see how she is situated. She is engaged to Percy Desborough——"

      "Thank goodness," Harry muttered to himself, "she has said something I can understand at last."

      "She is engaged to him, and he is a capital fellow; but for all that unless we find the will, or she has this £10,000, she knows, and I know it by her face, that it may be years before she marries Percy Desborough, if she ever does so."

      "By George," Harry exclaimed, taking his pipe suddenly from his mouth, and jumping up from his chair,—"By George, if I thought for a moment that Percy Desborough——"

      "There, you will interrupt me, Harry," Polly said, looking for the first time up from the fire with a little glance of amusement into his angry face. "Do sit down and hear me out, and you will see that there is no vengeance to be taken upon any one."

      Harry looked more than half inclined to be very angry; however he resumed his seat, and took short sulky puffs at his pipe.

      "The fact is, Harry, you have heard of Lady Desborough, and from what you have heard you must know——"

      "My dear Polly," I interrupted in my turn, assured at last that she had intuitively arrived at a correct conclusion about the state of my engagement with Percy,—"My dear Polly——"

      "My dear Agnes," she said, "you promised to hear me out. But, my darling,"—and she spoke in a very soft tender voice, turning round to me, and laying her hand on mine,—"you know what I am going to say to Harry; if it is painful, will you go away till I have done? Harry must hear it before he can come to any correct conclusion about this money."

      I shook my head silently, but pressed her hand, which, while she went on, still remained resting in mine.

      "Lady Desborough," and now she was looking steadily into the fire again, as if she read there all she was saying, "is a proud woman of the world, very ambitious, and very self-willed. Had Percy followed her wishes, and remained in the Guards, she would have expected him to have made a first-rate match; as it is, she could not hope that any earl's daughter would unite her fortunes to those of a cornet in a cavalry regiment, and troop with him out to India. When Percy therefore succeeded in persuading our Agnes here, that it was the best thing she could do, Lady Desborough was delighted at the match, which, with Agnes's £25,000, was vastly better than she could have expected. But when Mr. Harmer dies, what happens? Agnes has no fortune. All this time that I have been at school since Mr. Harmer died, and the will was missing, I have wondered and thought over what Lady Desborough would do. I came to the conclusion that she would wait for a bit, and would take no decided steps until it was clear that the will would never be found, but that unquestionably when it was proved to be gone she would interfere to break off the engagement between Percy and Agnes. I come back here, and what do I find? I find very little said about the engagement, and Agnes looking pale and depressed. Percy's letters come regularly; Agnes takes them up into her room, and comes down again after a very long time, with flushed cheeks, and a soft look, and yet not perfectly happy—that is not brightly happy. What does this mean? Just what I had anticipated. Percy is unchanged; the money, in his eyes, makes no difference whatever, but there is an obstacle somewhere; that obstacle being of course Lady Desborough. Probably by the continuance of the correspondence, she has not yet given up hopes of the will being found, and has not therefore taken any decided step, but has, I should imagine, plainly shown what her intentions will be if the fortune is not recovered. In support of this view, I see Agnes absorbed in the result of this search for the secret room; I saw her delight when one of the hidden springs was found—and this not because Agnes loves money, but because she loves Percy Desborough, and knows that without the fortune she cannot be married to him."

      "Why cannot Percy marry her in spite of his mother?" Harry growled in an unconvinced way. "He is not a boy; why can he not do as he likes?"

      "Because his present income and his future fortune depend upon her. I heard Agnes say so the last time I was at home. She could refuse to allow him one penny, and leave every farthing she possesses to Ada. You don't suppose that a subaltern in a cavalry regiment can keep a wife on his pay, even if Agnes would marry him under the circumstances, which she would not. Is all this true, Agnes darling?" she said, turning again to me, and this time I saw the tears were brimming up in her great blue eyes.

      "You are certainly a witch, Polly," I answered, trying to smile, but the tears were stealing down my cheeks too, as I got up and kissed her flushed face very tenderly and affectionately. To me all this was a perfect

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