"I called Caroline a viper, a sneak, and I don't remember what names besides; I bade her go and fetch down the box; indeed, I scarcely knew what I was saying, I was in such a thundering passion."
Hamil thought, "Wrong, quite wrong," but he made no observation aloud.
"So the box was brought down from the attic, and mistress opened—I cannot say that she searched it. One of the first things on which her eye fell was your gift; you remember my beautiful paper cutter, made in the shape of a dagger?"
"Ah! Caroline must have mistaken it for the silver one!" cried Hamil.
"She owned that she had done so," said Miriam; "they are really a good deal alike."
"Do you suppose," inquired Hamil, gravely, "that this Caroline had actually herself taken the silver knife from the table?"
"No," replied Miriam, quickly; "to do her justice, she is not bad enough for that. We soon found what had become of the knife. Master had taken it to cut the leaves of some book that he was reading while he was out walking. He chanced to return home in the midst of the business, and everything was explained."
"And so the whole matter ended, I hope," said Hamil.
"No, I gave warning to mistress. She wanted me to stay, but I would not. I can never speak to Caroline again, so how could I stop in that house?"
"Why could you never speak a word to Caroline again?" inquired Hamil Macbean. "There is at least one word which you should speak—you should ask her pardon for calling her a viper."