"Why, I never saw this before," she said; "I wonder what there is in it?"
There was not much in it; neither gold nor gems; only a baby's little worsted shoe rolled up in a piece of paper, and a tiny lock of pale and silky yellow hair, evidently taken from a baby's head. Phoebe's eyes dilated as she examined the little packet.
"So this is what my lady hides in the secret drawer," she muttered.
"It's queer rubbish to keep in such a place," said Luke, carelessly.
The girl's thin lip curved into a curious smile.
"You will bear me witness where I found this," she said, putting the little parcel into her pocket.
"Why, Phoebe, you're not going to be such a fool as to take that," cried the young man.
"I'd rather have this than the diamond bracelet you would have liked to take," she answered; "you shall have the public house, Luke."