There was silence between mother and daughter for a few minutes. At length Mrs. Medland wiped away the glad tears which had risen to her eyes, and said in a voice which faltered with emotion:—
"Oh, Lottie, how I wish Malvina had lived to see you turn over a new leaf! She used to worry about you so much, my dear!"
"I know, I know!" cried Lottie distressfully. "When I was upstairs ill, I was always thinking of Malvina," she continued in a tremulous tone, "how she used to lie there suffering—oh, much worse than I ever suffered—so patient and uncomplaining, and I used to feel I never could be happy again; but one day I thought, maybe, where she has gone she may be able to look down on us here, and if so she knows that I have really and truly repented of my wickedness, and she will be glad. As Miss Ann says, we can't tell how much the dead know. I mean to try to be more like Malvina in future, and I hope I'll never willingly give you trouble again." The girl's voice was intensely sincere.
It was a hard task for Lottie to walk the straight path, for it was most difficult for her to turn her back on her former companions, who could not understand why her illness should have sobered her to such a marked extent, and the vice of gambling had taken such strong hold of her that it offered many temptations still; but she stood firm in her determination to lead a better life. She had had plenty of time for serious thought during her recent illness, and in that little room upstairs, where she had been obliged to spend long days alone whilst her mother had been at work, she had truly been brought to repentance, and had sought forgiveness of the Saviour in whom her sister had so completely trusted. It had therefore not been resting entirely on her own strength that she had taken up her daily life again. In Malvina's Bible she had found a verse marked with a pencil line, and, during her sickness it had been continually in her mind:—
"Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings and not one of them is forgotten before God?"
"And if He watches over and cares for the sparrows," Lottie had thought, "then surely He will not fail to help me," and she had understood why her dead sister had loved the little brown birds, and a sense of sweet comfort had crept into her aching heart.
Ann Reed had paid Lottie several visits during her illness. She had told her that Dr. Reed had purchased the tortoise-shell purse from the pawnbroker and caused it to be returned to its rightful owner, and that he had made good the stolen money. Lottie had said very little on hearing this, though she had wept many tears and sobbed bitterly; in her heart of hearts she had been intensely grateful, but she had been quite incapable of putting her feelings into words.
By Violet's desire, Ann had not mentioned to either Lottie or Mrs. Medland that an innocent person had been suspected of the theft of the purse.
"I don't wish either of them to know I've had to suffer for Lottie's dishonesty," Violet had said decidedly; "they would feel so dreadful about meeting me again if they knew." And Ann had gladly held her peace on the point.
The news that Agnes Hosking's purse had been found had been received with much thankfulness by the Wyndham family; and when, towards the end of November, Dr. Reed and his wife stopped a few days in London on their way home from their holiday in Devonshire and spent an afternoon with the Wyndhams at Streatham, they were able to give the assurance, when questioned, that Violet was now quite happy at Helmsford College, and on the best of terms with most of her school-fellows.