I stood leaning against the dresser, feeling—but I couldn't tell what I felt. All the wrong I had done, all the falsehoods I had spoken, had been for nothing. I hadn't even the poor little reward that I had sinned for! I had not shielded Walter from blame. Somehow or other the matter had come to light.
Mary said nothing either. She looked so sad, so pitying.
We couldn't all have kept silence many seconds, I suppose, but it seemed an age. Before anybody spoke, father walked in.
"I haven't a moment," says he cheerily, "but somebody tells me Mary Russell has come, and I wanted to make sure. Why, so she is! Well, Mary, how d'you—Hallo!"
For his eyes fell on mother's face, and then on the watch and chain lying just in front of Mary.
Father forgot to finish his greeting, and the hand he was reaching out to Mary dropped down by his side.
"Hallo! How's this?" says he.
"I have brought back Kitty's watch," says Mary.
"Brought it back!" says father. "Back from where?"
Mary turned to me, speaking under her breath— "Kitty, if you haven't told yet, tell now! tell now!" whispered she.