The quiet of that long, old-fashioned room was unbroken save for her bitter sobs and the solemn tick-tock of the antique grandfather clock at the further end of the apartment. My hand was placed tenderly upon the poor girl’s shoulder, but it was a long time ere I could induce her to dry her tears.
When she did so, I saw by her face that she had become a changed woman.
Walking back to the writing-table she took up the envelope and re-read the superscription which Blair had written upon it, and KD 4 Shoes then for the first time her eyes fell upon the photograph of that lonely house by the crossways.
“Why!” she cried, startled, “where did you find this?”
I explained that it had dropped from the envelope, whereupon she took it up and gazed, for a long time upon it. Then, turning it over, she discovered what I had not noticed, namely, written faintly in pencil and half effaced were the words, “Owston crossroads, 9 miles beyond Doncaster on the Selby Road.―B.B.”
“Do you know what this is?”
“No, I haven’t the least idea,” I answered. “It must be something of which your father was very careful. It seems to be well worn, too, as though carried in somebody’s pocket.”