"You see this hand, Mrs. Harbottle. This is terrible"; and there was a flash in Hester's grey blue eyes which made Mrs. Harbottle quail. Trying to assume a defensive air, she burst forth:
"How can you believe that little liar! Most likely she fell in trying to escape and hurt her hand." All the same she was not feeling easy at the discovery, for had she not at the butler's request given Rosie to him to try to make her confess the theft? Now she began to fear she had gone too far.
"I am sorry my husband happens to be out," said Hester. "He has gone driving with a friend who is staying with us. This is a matter that will require looking into."
"Oh, if you like to take the word of that native imp in preference to mine, I've nothing more to say," wound up Mrs. Harbottle, with an air of offence. "Perhaps you'll get the creature to confess to you after we've gone," she added, as a parting shot.
"I will—I 'fess to my werry own missus only," sobbed Rosie, and sprang forward to cling to Hester's morning gown.
"Ah, there, I told you so! You'll soon find out where the ring is hidden," cried Mrs. Harbottle, with a ring of triumph in her tone. "I'll leave you now," she added, with returning smiles as she prepared to go. "I really cannot expose myself and my daughter to the sun. We've been delayed too long already over this wretched business."
Bowing stiffly, she raised her white umbrella, and the mother and daughter hurried away across the brown turf towards the gap in the hedge.
Hester felt rather nonplussed. Did Rosie not say she would confess after all? Had the child yielded to a sudden temptation and become a thief? Was that why poor old ayah had stood by with such an unutterably stricken look?
"Come, Rosie, I want to talk to you in this very place where you used to repeat your hymn and hear nice stories," said Hester in a soothing voice. "Now tell me about all this!"
The little girl, in spite of her aching fingers, seemed to have wonderfully recovered her equanimity since the departure of her accusers.