Mrs. Tracy did not reply, and Luke left the house.
"If I ever hated and despised a boy, it is that one!" said Mrs. Tracy to herself as she went upstairs to remove her street dress. "I wish I could strip the mask from him, and get aunt to see him in his real character. He is a sly, artful young adventurer. Ah, Felicie, come and assist me. By the way, I want you to watch that boy who has just gone out?"
"Luke Walton?"
"Yes; of course you have heard of my aunt's loss. I suspect that this Luke Walton is the thief."
"Is it possible, madam? Have you any evidence?"
"No; but we may find some. What do you think?"
"I haven't thought much about the matter. It seems to me very mysterious."
When Felicie left the presence of her mistress she smiled curiously.
"What would Madam Tracy say if she knew it was her own son?" she soliloquized. "He is a young cur, but she thinks him an angel."