“Told you what?” asked Billie.
“Told me that you have kept the box of jewels as you promised.”
“But——” began Billie, a dozen thoughts flashing through her mind at once in tumultuous confusion.
She saw again the face of the sick woman at Mrs. Ruggles’, her long hair spread over the pillow like a mantel of black and the troubled dark eyes which gazed into hers for one brief moment.
“Then that was the automobile lady I saw in your bedroom?” she burst out.
“Yes,” replied the old woman. “That was my daughter, Maria.”
“Is Maria home again?” asked Elinor.
“I thought she had married a South American,” said Nancy.
“Maria is now a singer,” said Mrs. Ruggles proudly. “She has sung in Buenos Ayres and Paris, not in this country. Her husband was from Venezuela. He was very rich and he gave her many jewels. He loved her dearly for a few years, until he began to like something else better.”
The old woman paused. It was extremely difficult for her to speak at such great length when she was so unaccustomed to talking at all.