"It was," Violet answered eagerly, "do you think—"
She stopped abruptly, for the poor mother had quite broken down, and was weeping in a heart-broken fashion most painful to witness. A long silence followed, and, before Mrs. Medland had regained her composure, Grace Jones appeared upon the threshold of the room and addressed herself to Ann.
"Lottie wanted to know who was downstairs," she said, "and I told her you had come on purpose to inquire for her, miss; she wishes to see you if you'll be so kind as to come upstairs to her. She seems all right in her head now."
Mrs. Medland glanced doubtfully at Ann, who, however, rose directly, and declared her willingness to comply with Lottie's request; accordingly Mrs. Medland preceded her upstairs to Lottie's room.
The injured girl lay with her face turned towards the door, and, at the sight of Ann, a feverish light leaped into her blue eyes, and she cried excitedly:—
"I'm dying, Miss Ann, I know I'm dying!"
"Oh, I trust not, and indeed I don't think so," answered Ann, speaking calmly though her heart was beating unevenly and she was conscious of a sensation of alarm, for Lottie's countenance was ghastly in its pallor; "Dr. Elizabeth says you must keep quiet—"
"I can't keep quiet," Lottie interrupted; "my brain feels on fire! Miss Ann, there's something I must tell you before I die, something I haven't dared speak of to a soul! Mother, you listen, too!
"Do you remember, one evening last March, when I called at your house, Miss Ann, with some work Malvina had done for Mrs. Reed, and I waited in the hall? Well," she continued as Ann nodded assent, "it was then it happened—what I am going to tell. You had a visitor, a stylishly dressed young lady, and whilst I was waiting, a lady, one of the governesses at Helmsford College—I know because I've seen her walking with some of the pupils—arrived to fetch her home. The young lady came downstairs with her muff under her arm. She was putting on her gloves, and, as she reached the mat at the bottom of the stairs, I saw something fall out of her muff—it was a purse. No one noticed it but me, for it fell on the mat—a sheep's wool mat very thick and soft—and made no sound. I—I—when no one was looking—I picked it up and put it in my pocket, and—and I kept it. Yes, I kept it, although I saw the notices about it posted all over the town. I-I wanted money so much—oh, you don't know how much!"
"Oh, Lottie, Lottie!" wailed Mrs. Medland. She was confident that her daughter was telling the truth; there was no appearance of delirium about her now. "Oh, what could have possessed you to do it? Oh, how could you have been such a wicked, wicked girl? What have you done with the purse? Was there much money in it?" She was wringing her hands distractedly.