"Where did you get them?"
The child did not answer.
"Whose are these things, Anne?" asked Miss Drayton, more sternly.
"Mine, mine, mine!" cried Anne. "Indeed, I'll tell you all about them when we get to Nantes."
"Anne! What do you mean? Nantes! What has Nantes to do with it? You are making my sister ill. See how pale she is!—Emily, dear Emily, don't look so troubled. If only I had taken the matter up with you alone, Mademoiselle Duroc!"
"I wish I could tell. I do wish I could," moaned Anne.
Entreaty and command were in vain.
"We shall have to let the matter rest for the present," said Miss Drayton, at last. "It has overtaxed my sister's strength."
"Never mind me," protested Mrs. Patterson. "I am troubled only for the child's sake. Oh, there must be some reasonable, right explanation of it all!"
"I hope so," said Miss Drayton, hopelessly.