She examined the position of this box with breathless interest and care--then gently lifted it in both hands and placed it on the floor.

On a table near the window lay a half-finished watercolor drawing, with a magnifying glass by the side of it.

Providing herself with the glass, she returned to the cupboard, and closely investigated the place on which the box had stood.
The slight layer of dust--so slight as to be imperceptible to the unassisted eye--which had surrounded the four sides of the box, presented its four delicate edges in perfectly undisturbed straightness of line.
This mute evidence conclusively proved that the box had not been moved during her quarter of an hour's absence in Mr.Keller's room.

She put it back again, and heaved a deep breath of relief.
But it was a bad sign (she thought) that her sense of caution had been completely suspended, in the eagerness of her curiosity to know if Mr.
Keller's message of invitation referred to the wedding day.

"I lose my best treasure," she said to herself sadly, "if I am beginning to lose my steadiness of mind.