“You mean the pearl necklace?”
“Yes.”
“I am so sorry. I wish we could have found it for you.”
“It has been found, Mary,” said the widow, turning her head away so as not to see Mary’s face.
“Oh, you did find it? I am so glad. Where was it?”
“Supper is served, Mrs. St. Clair,” said Randolph, opening the door to the dining room, where the others were already waiting.
“We will talk about where it was found later,” she said to Mary, who gave her a puzzled look, as she followed into the room.
When supper was over, the boys and girls scattered about the various rooms. Roly Poly and Nancy got up charades. Billie curled up in a big easy chair by the fire. She had got most of the wind in her face and she was very sleepy. No one noticed, therefore, when Mrs. St. Clair, drawing Mary’s hand through her arm, led her out of the room.
“I want to see you upstairs, Mary,” she said. “Will you come to my little private sitting room? There is something I wish to talk with you about.”
Mary was still wondering what in the world could be wanted of her, when Mrs. St. Clair drew her into a pretty little pink boudoir at the end of the hall. The door to the next room had been left open, but Mary did not notice a small, dapper man sitting there in a high-backed cretonne chair.