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For Lila's nature was one of those that give all and demand all and suffer in a myriad mysterious ways. On the afternoon of that Saturday when Bea skipped up the narrow tower stairs to invite Lila to go to the orchard to gather a scrapbasket full of apples, she discovered the door locked. In answer to her lively rat-tattoo and gay call over the transom, she heard the key turn.
She put her hands on the little railing and looked down at the room below her, to see if she had missed anything. And her eyes fell on a cupboard which was level with the wall at one side, and had so escaped her eye heretofore. Also there was a scrapbasket which might tell tales.
She dashed down the little stair, and made for the scrapbasket, but Francis was more thorough than she had thought, and it was empty. She opened the cupboard and looked in there was a little flashlight lying near it, and she illuminated the dark with it. There in the cupboard lay a banjo. "Gracious!" breathed Marjorie. "What a memory!"
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