Mary Louise found her looking pale and wasted, but her black eyes beamed as brightly as ever, and she smiled faintly at her visitor.
“I brought you some flowers, Miss Grant,” began the girl cheerfully as she handed them to the nurse. “And I’m so glad to hear that you are better.”
Miss Grant nodded her thanks and indicated that she wanted Mary Louise to sit down in the chair beside her high white bed.
“Any news?” she asked in a weak but eager voice.
Mary Louise shook her head.
“Nothing more,” she replied. “Mr. John Grant told you about my awful experience on Saturday night, didn’t he?”
“Yes. I was afraid something like that might happen. I’m sorry, Mary Louise, and thankful that you weren’t injured.”
“You mean you’re sorrier for me than for yourself—about losing the necklace?” asked the girl incredulously. This didn’t sound at all like the miser she believed Miss Grant to be.
“Yes, I am. Because, somehow, I never thought that necklace would do me any good. I should have been afraid to sell it for fear it would bring up some old scandal or some disgrace about my father. I don’t know how he got hold of it—I was always afraid it had something to do with gambling or a bet of some kind—but I do know that my mother never approved of his keeping it. And so I’m almost thankful it’s gone.”
“Who do you think could have taken it?”