had the use of it—it was reckoned as part of his salary. It's their house, miss."
"But, anyway, my uncle's effects are his—and I mean to see them," insisted Betty. "If you won't call Mr. Joseph—or Mr. Gabriel—out, I shall walk into the bank at the front door, and demand to see them. You'd better let one of them know I'm here, Mrs. Carswell—I'm not going to stand any nonsense."
Mrs. Carswell hesitated a little, but in the end she knocked timidly at the private door. And presently Joseph Chestermarke opened it, looked out, saw Betty, and came into the hall. He offered his visitor no polite greeting, and for once he forgot his accustomed sneering smile. Instead, he gave the housekeeper a swift look which sent her away in haste, and he turned to Betty with an air of annoyance.
"Yes?" he asked abruptly. "What do you want?"
"I want to go into my uncle's house—into his rooms," said Betty. "I am his next-of-kin—I wish to examine his papers."
"You can't!" answered Joseph. "We haven't examined them ourselves yet."
"What right have you to examine them?" demanded Betty.
"Every right!" retorted Joseph.
"Not his private belongings!" she said firmly.
"This is our house—you're not going into it," declared Joseph. "Nobody's going into it—without our permission.
"We'll see about that, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke!" replied Betty. "If—supposing—my uncle is dead,
