Aunt Mary Part 2

'I don't know, I'm sure, ma'am,' replied Susan. 'I saw it on the pincus.h.i.+on yesterday, before the young ladies went out; I have not seen it since. Perhaps Miss Mabel may be wearing it.'

'Nonsense, Susan!' said Mrs. Ellis; 'how could you think Miss Mabel would do such a thing without my leave?'

'Well, ma'am,' answered the steady servant, 'I don't know whether you gave leave or not, but I know I have often seen the young lady with the brooch in her necktie.'

Mrs. Ellis felt greatly displeased, not of course with Susan, but with her daughter; she thought it best, however, to make no further remark at present, but to wait until Mabel returned for an explanation of the affair.

It is almost needless to say that the morning's walk had neither been pleasant nor satisfactory to the two girls, for the treasure they went out to seek had not been found, and they returned home sick at heart. I say 'they,' because though poor Julia had not been really to blame, she sorrowed both on her mamma's and her sister's account; besides which, she had a dread of her papa's coming to the knowledge of the untoward event.

'Mabel,' said Mrs. Ellis, as soon as that young lady came in, 'have you had my brooch on to-day?'

'No, mamma,' was the immediate and the only response to the question, the words _to-day_ forming a loophole to creep out at, so as to avoid explanation, though that was the very time to make one. Accordingly search was again commenced--as we know, without any result.

The midday dinner-hour pa.s.sed away uncomfortably enough, except for the little folks, whose appet.i.te did not seem to be in the least impaired by surrounding circ.u.mstances; and strange as it may appear, Mrs. Ellis, notwithstanding what the servant had told her respecting Mabel's wearing the brooch, instead of closely questioning that young lady, permitted her to leave the room with the children, while she herself renewed the fruitless search. Tired out at last, she sat down in the dining-room, to await the coming home of her husband in no very pleasurable state of mind. Of course she must tell him of her loss; but she well knew how angry he would be, and what a commotion was likely to ensue. However, there was no help for it.

'Ada,' said Mr. Ellis to his wife, after he had enjoyed a comfortable dinner, and had taken his customary seat in the arm-chair, newspaper in hand, 'what has become of that valuable brooch that I gave you on your birthday? You used to wear it every day; why have you not got it on now?'

The usually pale face of Mrs. Ellis flushed all over at this inquiry, but she answered truthfully--Mabel had certainly not learned to tell falsehoods, either from her mamma or papa:

'I am very sorry to tell you, Arthur,' said Mrs. Ellis, 'that the brooch is missing; I have searched in vain for it, and Susan does not know anything about it.'

'Have you inquired of the girls, and the children?' said Mr. Ellis; 'perhaps they may have seen it.'

'I did ask Mabel when she came in from her walk if she had had it on,'

replied the lady,' and she said she had not.'

'Call Mabel and Julia down, and let me question them,' said papa; 'perhaps I may learn more about the brooch than you think.'

'Oh, I'm sure it is no use, my dear,' replied Mrs. Ellis, dreading a scene, for she knew how severely her husband was inclined to visit faults which she, poor lady, had not courage to grapple with. 'Better not disturb yourself about the brooch to-night,' she added; 'we will have another search for it to-morrow, and I am sure the girls know nothing about it.'

'_I_ am not sure of any such thing,' replied Mr. Ellis, 'and I insist upon Mabel and Julia being told to come to me.'

As there was no resisting her husband's authority, the girls were summoned to their papa's presence; and though they knew not why it was, there was a conscious uneasiness in their minds which certainly did not lend wings to their feet.

'Come here, girls,' said their papa, though not in an unkindly tone, as they entered the dining-room. 'I want to ask you a few questions. Mind, I must have truthful and straightforward answers--no prevarication.'

Mrs. Ellis looked at the two girls, and then at her husband, with astonishment, not having the least idea of what was coming; yet she felt very uneasy.

'Mabel,' said Mr. Ellis, addressing his eldest daughter, 'you were out yesterday?'

'Yes, papa,' replied that young lady; 'Julia and I went for a walk with Dora and Annie Maitland.'

'And where did you go?' was the next inquiry, and one very easily answered.

'To the Regent's Park, papa,' said Julia; 'but we were there only a short time.'

'Now just one more question, and I have done,' said papa; 'did either of you girls lose anything while you were out?'

'Oh, papa, yes,' answered Julia instantly--'mamma's brooch. Oh, have you found it, papa?' she exclaimed.

'Mamma's brooch!' said Mr. Ellis, with a look of a.s.sumed astonishment.

'Why, which of you presumed to wear your mamma's brooch?' But he added almost immediately, 'I need not inquire further: I am sorry to say I have had some sad experience of deception in my eldest daughter, and have observed in her that silly vanity, that makes outside show a cover for inward defects. Go!' he added sternly to Mabel; 'I have nothing more to say to you to-night. It nearly sickens me to think that I have a daughter base enough to conceal faults, which she is not afraid of committing.'

With conscious shame and distress, Mabel quitted the dining-room; and Julia also was retreating, when her papa told her to remain, as he had something to say to her.

Though Julia felt very sorry for her sister, and would have been glad to speak a word of comfort to her, yet she was so anxious to hear from her papa something about the lost brooch, that she was not at all reluctant to remain; so planting herself by her mother's side, she stood patiently to listen to what further Mr. Ellis had to say.

'Did you know, Julia, that Mabel had on your mamma's brooch when you went for a walk?' inquired papa.

Julia hung down her head, yet she answered truthfully;

'Yes, papa, I did know, for I begged her not to wear it.'

'And when she persisted in doing so, why did you not appeal to your mamma?'

To this question there came no response, so Mr. Ellis continued:

'Let me warn you, my little girl,' he said kindly, 'never to connive at faults in your brothers or sisters; it is to them a cruel kindness, which both they and you may live to be sorry for in after life.'

As Mr. Ellis said this, he drew from his waistcoat-pocket the glittering trinket, which had been the innocent cause of so much anxiety, and placing it in his wife's hand, said:

'Now, my dear, I advise you to be more careful of your _jewels_, or you may lose far more precious ones than this brooch.'

As he made this remark he nodded to Julia, though Mrs. Ellis well understood what her husband meant.

'Now, my little girl, you may go and join the children, while I tell mamma how I came by the brooch.'

CHAPTER V.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Julia was very glad indeed to see the brooch again, and glad also to receive a dismissal, as she longed to tell her sister the good news.

'And now, my dear,' said Mr. Ellis, when they were alone, 'I suppose you want to learn the particulars respecting the lost and found.'

'Indeed I do, Arthur,' replied his wife; 'it seems a marvellous thing to me how the brooch should have come into your possession, or indeed how it was found at all.'

'Well, it all came about without any magic, as you shall hear,' said her husband. 'You remember the young lady, Miss Vernon, who was staying a short time in the winter with our friends the Maitlands, and whom we were invited to meet?'

'Oh yes, I remember her quite well; I thought her so very pretty, and she sang so delightfully. But what of her?' inquired Mrs. Ellis.

'Well,' replied the gentleman, 'that lady is now a Mrs. Norton; she is married to a friend of mine--an old friend, I should say, for we went to school together.'

'Then he must be considerably older than the lady,' said Mrs. Ellis, 'for I think she is not twenty yet.'