Mrs. Mead made no remark as she examined the brooch. She held it first one way, then another, to make the stones sparkle, then put it in her pocket.
"What are you going to do with it, Aunt Martha?" inquired Bob.
"Keep it safe for you," she replied. "It's very pretty, and I think it's gold; but I can't tell about the stones—whether they're rubies or only red glass. If they're rubies the brooch will be advertised for and there'll be a reward for the finder. Say nothing about it to anyone for the time."
"Then you don't think I ought to take it to the police-station?"
"Not at present. Wait a while and see what happens."
Nothing happened in connection with the brooch that day. But the day following Bob noticed a printed bill in a shop window, which advertised the loss of a brooch exactly answering the description of the one he had found and said that anyone finding it and bringing it to Lady Margaret Browning, at a certain hotel on Clifton Down, would receive a reward of five pounds. He hurried home immediately and told Mrs. Mead what he had seen.
"Five pounds!" she exclaimed, "Humph! that's not so bad!"
"Not so bad!" Bob echoed. "I call it splendid! Oh, do let me have the brooch and I'll take it to Lady Margaret Browning at once!"
"Not so fast!" his aunt replied. "You must wait till after dinner, then I'll go with you. I can leave Lizzie to look after the shop for once, and I daresay Mrs. Winter will not mind taking charge of Jackie."
Mrs. Mead was in high good humour now. Matters were arranged as she wished, and so, about four o'clock in the afternoon, she and Bob arrived at the hotel mentioned on the bill. Mrs. Mead inquired for Lady Margaret Browning, and explained that they had come to return her lost brooch to her. They were immediately shown into a sitting-room where a young lady was seated at a writing-table.