Barbara was idly turning over the pages of her book, staring straight ahead of her at nothing in particular, when she unexpectedly leaped to her feet.  Her face flushed, but her lips took on a more determined curve.

When Barbara Thurston undertook to accomplish a thing she usually found a way.  Only weak people are deterred by obstacles.

Bab had remembered that she had heard Mr. Hamlin say that he kept a Washington directory in his private study.  She knew that by searching diligently through this book she could find the address of a pawn shop.

Now was the time, of all others, to accomplish her purpose.  With Bab, to think, was to do.

Barbara knew that no one was expected to enter Mr. Hamlin’s study.  She did not dream, however, that she would be doing any harm just to slip quietly into it, find the directory and slip quickly out again, without touching a single other thing in the room.

As has already been explained, Mr. Hamlin’s study was a small room adjoining the drawing-room, and separated from it by a pair of heavy curtains and folding doors, which were occasionally left open, when Mr. Hamlin was not in the house, so that the room could be aired and at the same time shut it off from public view.

Bab went straight through the hall and entered Mr. Hamlin’s study through a small back door.

The room was dark, and Bab thought empty when she entered it.  The inside blinds were closed, but there was sufficient light through the openings for Barbara to see her way about perfectly.  She was bent upon business and went straight to her task without pausing to open the window, for she wished to take no liberties with Mr. Hamlin’s apartment.

The four walls of the study were lined with books, reports from Congress; everything pertaining to the business of the government at Washington.  Certainly finding that old-time needle in a haystack was an easy duty compared with locating the city directory in such a wilderness of books.

First on her hands and knees, then on tip-toe, Bab thoroughly searched through every shelf.  No directory could be found.

“I can hardly see,” Bab decided at last.  “It will not do any harm for me to turn on an electric light.”

Bab was so intent on her occupation that, even after she had turned on the light, which hung immediately over Mr. Hamlin’s private desk, she still thought she was alone in the room.

Lying under a heap of magazines and pages of manuscript on Mr. Hamlin’s desk, was a large book, which looked very much as though it might be the desired directory.

Still Bab wavered.  She knew no one was ever allowed to lay a hand on Mr. Hamlin’s desk.  Even Harriet herself never dared to touch it.  But what harm could it do Mr. Hamlin for Barbara to pick up the book she desired?  She would not disarrange a single paper.

Bab reached out, intending to secure what she wished.  But immediately she felt her arm seized and held in a tight grip.