"The servants are above suspicion," he remarked.
"And they were not in the room at all—I mean between my seeing the bank-note, and locking the desk. I don't know whom I trust or don't trust; but they had no opportunity! Nobody was here alone—except—Lettice—" she paused, not adding "and Felix."
The insinuation, pointed by her stress upon the word "they," might have glanced unfelt from the shield of Lettice's unconscious innocence, but for Dr. Bryant's indignant—"Theodosia!" It opened the girl's eyes. She dropped her book, and sat up, not frightened or angry, but amazed. That any one should suppose such a thing possible, seemed beyond credulity. Lettice could have laughed aloud.
"Pray be careful what you say," requested the Doctor sternly.
"I'm not accusing anybody—why should I? But you can't deny that things look odd. I know the bank-note was there, and Lettice was left in the room alone—for some minutes alone—and nobody has seen the note since. And I heard her say this very morning, that she wanted twenty pounds. You know you did, Lettice!"
"I said I wished I had twenty pounds," Lettice answered in a dreamy tone.
Silence fell upon them.
"Of course anybody can think what anybody likes," Theodosia observed at length, breaking into an uneasy laugh. "The thing may have spirited itself away. Or the cat may have got it. Or it may be in my desk all the time. Only I don't see how it can be—and the cat hasn't been here, all day—and if I were Lettice, I shouldn't like the look of things."
Silence again. Dr. Bryant had taken up a paper-knife, and was carefully examining its edge. Lettice sat like one dazed. She said not a word in self-defence. Another dread, a terrible fear had fallen upon her. Felix had been alone in the room, as well as she; only for a brief space, yet, alas, long enough. She had not after that observed the bank-note, so as to know if it still lay there. Could it be that Felix had possessed himself of the twenty pounds, under a sudden temptation? Was such a thing possible? Lettice did not know. He had wanted ready money? So much she did know; and he had accepted her little all, without hesitation or compunction. He might have gone further still.
Dr. Bryant stood in pained silence, waiting for her denial of Theodosia's implied accusation. He could not understand the long silence. All he wished for, was a denial from Lettice: for he trusted her word perfectly, and his wife's word he could not perfectly trust. Had Lettice met him with her clear gaze, and said firmly—"I did not do it!" Then he would have had no more doubts. He would have believed her implicitly, in the face of any odds.