At the bottom of the upper flight Mrs. Pilton stood, her hand on the newel-post—waiting. Sabrina went scarlet, and caught at the banister.

“I—wanted to see the books,” she said limply.

“You’ve been inside,” said Mrs. Pilton. Her eyes were searching, but not unfriendly.

“I’m afraid I picked the lock,” confessed Sabrina. “With a hairpin and a button-hook.”

“You knew I had a key,” said the woman, immovable.

“I knew you wouldn’t lend it to me.” Sabrina hurried down the last few steps and laid an impulsive hand on Mrs. Pilton’s sleeve. “Please don’t lock the door again!” she begged. “Please let me go in sometimes! I won’t do any harm. I’ll only take out one book at a time, and I’ll always put it back exactly where I found it. Surely he wouldn’t mind my going into his room, if I’m very careful not to disturb anything?”

The woman looked down at her remotely, without smiling, and Sabrina took her hand off the black-clad arm and fell back a step.

“I—I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I knew it was wrong, but I—didn’t mean to pry—” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s much the nicest room in the house,” she added in her own defense, and turned away blindly towards her bedroom further down the passage.

“If you feel that way about it,” the woman’s quiet voice came after her, “I’ll leave the door as it is.”

Sabrina swung round incredulously to thank her, and saw only Mrs. Pilton’s back, receding towards the servants’ stairs, her shoulders erect and uncompromising as usual.

For several weeks Sabrina and Mrs. Pilton shared the secret between them. But an afternoon naturally had to come when Aunt Effie called and got no reply, went to Sabrina’s room and found it empty, called again, urgently, and was answered at last by a very small voice from the top floor.

Aunt Effie was aghast. Leases were leases, and there was a clause. If the intrusion were known, they could be forced to leave the house. She stood halfway up the stairs, arguing, while Sabrina hung on to the banister at the top, defending herself tearfully and maintaining that it was only for the books, and that she did nobody any harm by reading them and putting them back.

In the midst of it Mrs. Pilton’s low-pitched voice came up to them from the passage.

“I don’t think there’d be any objection,” she was saying, “so long as she takes nothing out of the room.”

“Did you know she had got into it?” demanded Aunt Effie, astonished.

“Yes, I knew,” said the housekeeper.

“You should have told me at once,” scolded Aunt Effie. “I could have put a stop to it.”

Mrs. Pilton’s eyes rested a moment on Sabrina’s flushed and anxious face.