The Press., 1922-01-26

and no one knew the contents save the old abbot, who had been dead for cent turfes.
 Agatha Rocket fairly quaked az she turned the rusted little key in the lock and lifted out the package, wrapped in gold brOcade that a King had worn i; the precious relic of a patrician race was in her hands and she looked guilt ily around as if she expected Sir An gus to snatch it from her alien hands. It was a small fiat book, bound be- tween covers of thin, beaten gold. The golden clasp was sealed with a splOtch of red wax, and Agatha blushed as she visualized Sir Angus grim satis- faction as he finally sealed it against her inquisitive eyes. The secrets guarded there would still be secrets hugged close to the hearts of the BOothbys, even the rich aunt of An drew's bride dared not touch.
 Dared not!
 Her hands shook as she hurriedly wrapped the book and thrust it into the casket, locking it securely. Temp tation was very near the proud woman, who had always reached out and grasped all that she needed-all she wanted; she had eluded love, for he came in humble dress in other days, and now. love eluded her, save that of Sylvia-and there would be Sylvia's children some day. The thought glad dened her-thrilled her.
 Then the steel casket containing the Golden Missal confronted her There was taste of the bitterness of. failure in the sight of 1t. How she had planned about it; the newspapers would write articles about it; the pictorial supple ments would feature il ; her own pic: ture would be there, and Sylvia's, probably Andrews. if that conserva- tive young :Briton would consent, which was doubtful. Agatha wished she could detest publicity as Sylvia and Andrew did But she loved It.,
 Here's auntie.' fluted Sylvia's voice, and she came bringing Andrew He was a tall lean. brown young man. very much in love. He bent over and kissed Miss Rockets cheek. '~
 "JOve!" he exclaimed. If you haven't got the family skeleton r'
 Your uncle sent it to you and Syl- via" she explained lamely. ''Tt's the Golden Missal-of course you know all about it."
 Andrew shook his head .'Hear about it often. SAW if once. hut neveY z. "..,,'" ..ot 'r+""nS; ed-nar't v0n know in something that isn't to be opened or read" he said practically.
 Agatha gasped. Not to be opened? Didn't your uncle-yOur people" .c.
 He laughed carelessly. Never heard of anyone bothering with it. The old abbot wrote it and then forbade any one to read what he had written matter of family honor to leave the seal unbroken-rather decent of my uncle to intrust it to us '"
 II wish we could send it back-the proper place for 1t is in the vault at the Towers, not in our farm house. said Sylvia. '. Right" agreed Andy. Come, dar- ling, perhaps those detectives will let tIs look at the wedding gifts" sr < They went away, so absorbed in their own love their joy in being to- gether, that they forgot Aunt Agatha sitting there. with the heirloom in her satin lap. How little they cared for the hoarded history, for the money awaiting them. The golden glory of their love was binding Agatha hid the coffer in her safe and hurried downstairs after. Sylvia and Andy. They saw her coming, tiny lady with snowy hair and wistful eyes, and open