“What, that bright little girl that I have seen about the house?”
“Yes, Mr. Holland, I am afraid it is she,” said Mrs. Merton, shaking her head. “She is not exactly a servant, but a child whom my brother took out of the streets, and induced me to take charge of while he is away. She has been very ill-trained, and I am not surprised to find her dishonest. More than once I have regretted taking charge of her.”
“I am sorry,” said Mr. Holland. “I have noticed that she is rather different from most girls. I wish I had not exposed her to the temptation.”
“She must give up the money, or I won’t keep her in the house,” said Mrs. Merton, who had become indignant at Tom’s ingratitude, as she considered it. “My brother can’t expect me to harbor a thief in the house, even for his sake. It would ruin the reputation of my house if such a thing happened again.”
“She will probably give it back when she finds herself detected,” said Mr. Holland.
“I will tax her with it at once,” said the landlady. “Stay here, Mr. Holland, and I will call her.”
Tom was called in. She looked from one to the other, and something in the expression of each led her to see that she was to be blamed for something, though what she could not conceive.
“Jane,” said Mrs. Merton, sternly, “my brother will be very much grieved when he learns how badly you have behaved to-day.”
“What have I been doing?” asked Tom, looking up with a fearless glance, not by any means like a girl conscious of theft.
“You have taken twenty dollars belonging to Mr. Holland.”