'I HAVE SEALED THE DIRECTIONS IN THIS ENVELOPE.'

THE CARVED CUPBOARD

BY

AMY LE FEUVRE

AUTHOR OF
'PROBABLE SONS,' 'TEDDY'S BUTTON,' 'LEGEND LED,'
'ODD MADE EVEN,' 'HEATHER'S MISTRESS,' ETC.

R.T.S., 4 Bouverie Street, London, E.C. 4
1899

Contents

CHAPTER I
A SUPPLANTER

CHAPTER II
FOUR VERSES

CHAPTER III
A COUNTRY HOME

CHAPTER IV
BLUEBEARD'S CUPBOARD

CHAPTER V
A QUIET SUNDAY

CHAPTER VI
A DEPARTURE

CHAPTER VII
UNREST

CHAPTER VIII
ENTERTAINING A STRANGER

CHAPTER IX
GWEN'S RESOLVE

CHAPTER X
CLARE'S DISCOVERY

CHAPTER XI
AGATHA'S LEGACY

CHAPTER XII
OUT IN CALIFORNIA

CHAPTER XIII
HIS LAST MESSAGE

CHAPTER XIV
THE COUSINS' RETURN

CHAPTER XV
ALICK LESTER

CHAPTER XVI
BRINGING BAD TIDINGS

CHAPTER XVII
ELFIE'S CHOICE

CHAPTER XVIII
PATTY'S GRAVE

CHAPTER XIX
THE RIGHTFUL HEIR

CHAPTER XX
BROUGHT BACK

ILLUSTRATIONS

'I HAVE SEALED THE DIRECTIONS IN THIS
ENVELOPE.' . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece

AND SAW A MAN ON HIS KNEES BY THE CUPBOARD

THE CARVED CUPBOARD

CHAPTER I

A Supplanter

'For troubles wrought of men,
Patience is hard.'—J. Ingelow.

The firelight shone upon a comfortably-furnished drawing-room in one of the quiet London squares, and upon four girlish figures grouped around a small tea-table. Agatha Dane, the eldest, sat back in her chair with a little wrinkle of perplexity upon her usually placid brow. Rather plump and short of stature, with no pretensions to beauty, there was yet something very attractive in her bright open countenance; and she was one to whom many turned instinctively for comfort and help.

Gwendoline, who sat next her, and was doing most of the talking, was a tall, slight, handsome girl, with dark eyes that flashed and sparkled with animation as she spoke, and there was a certain stateliness of carriage that made some of her acquaintances term her proud.

Clare was toying absently with her spoon and tea-cup; she was listening, and occasionally put in a word, but her thoughts were evidently elsewhere. She had not the determination in her face that was Gwendoline's characteristic; and perhaps the varying expressions passing over it, and so transparent to those who knew her, formed her chief charm. There was a wistfulness in her dark blue eyes, and a look of expectation that one longed to see fulfilled; and her dreamy preoccupied manner often made her friends wonder if she spent all her time in dreamland.

Elfrida sat on the hearth-rug with her sunny hair glistening in the firelight. She was the youngest and prettiest of the four, and had only just returned from Germany that same day. It was her eager questioning that was making them all linger over their tea.

'But I don't understand,' she said, a little impatiently. 'How does Cousin James happen to be here at all? Aunt Mildred never cared for him. She said last year when I was home that he was a regular screw, and