The pearl necklace was lying on a table in the boudoir. Mrs. St. Clair picked it up and held it out to Mary.
“Did you ever see it closely before, Mary?” she asked.
“No, I never did,” answered the girl, with enthusiasm. “How beautiful it is. No wonder you were so unhappy. But where did you find it?”
“That is just why I brought you in here, Mary. I wanted to ask you if you could guess where the necklace had been found at last.”
Mary suddenly became very grave. She was beginning to notice now that Mrs. St. Clair was in an unusually serious frame of mind and that something must have happened concerning the necklace which the others had not heard.
“I don’t understand,” she said, after a pause. “Why should I guess?”
“Is it possible, Mary,” exclaimed the widow, “that even after you were told I had found the necklace you were not just a little frightened, a little uneasy? Didn’t you suspect when I asked you to come up here with me that I was going to speak to you about the necklace?”
Mary looked at her in wonder for a few minutes. Then a light dawned on her.
“It’s Fannie Alta again,” she said, in a low voice. “She must have put the necklace among some of my things.”
“Then you do know where I found the necklace?” cried the widow triumphantly.