"Any disappearance is a mystery. If I lose a collar button, it is a mystery to me. If it was not, I would know where it was. The things we don't know are always mysterious. If we know, then they are as plain as day."
"It seems strange it should disappear for three months and then Hester Alden have it on, especially when Helen Loraine is away."
"That is the very time you should wear other people's jewelry and clothes. When I am home I always wear my mother's best silk stockings and rustling petticoats when I know she's down in the city shopping. Of course I always ask her—when she comes back—and she never refuses me permission. She always says the same thing: 'Well, since you have them on—'"
Erma's attempts to lead the conversation away from Hester and the pin was without results. Berenice clung to the subject with a tenacity which would have been admirable had the thing been worth while.
"I understand you, Erma. You think just as I do, but you are afraid to say so. I suspected from the first where the pin went; but of course I did not say so."
"Do you not think it a wise course to follow now—to say nothing?"
"It is very different now. Before, I was merely suspicious. One may not make statements in mere suspicion. Now I have proofs."
"Proofs? Because Hester Alden has the pin on and Helen is away?"
"Let us walk along the edge of the river," said Mellie. She, too, meant to change the conversation. "I love the river when it is icebound. I should like to cross if I thought it were safe. But I fancy we had better not. We have had several days of thaw and that always rots the ice, and rotten ice is far more dangerous than thin ice."
"I intend to speak my mind," said Berenice. "Mellie and you are very much afraid you will express yourselves. You think as I do about the matter, but you will not say so. I cannot see the difference between thinking a thing and saying it outright."