"It is very queer," said Mrs. Willis. "I must write to the post office in Paris and make inquiries. Well, I am glad the ring is safe."
"Of course, it is as safe as possible," said Annie. "It is too bad about the letter," she continued. "Did you want the ring very badly?"
"Yes, very badly; but it is not too late yet to manage matters. I want to have the ring copied as a wedding present for Margaret Cecil, but I have already spoken to a jeweller about it, and if I send him the ring to-day or to-morrow he will have it in time. Don't forget to give it to me, Annie, dear, when we get home."
"Oh, no," said Annie, "I won't forget."
A few moments later they arrived at the Grange, where Mrs. Willis was received with a kind of trembling joy by Hester, who took her into the house and showered every imaginable attention which her love could suggest upon her.
"Time, time," muttered Annie to herself as she rushed away. "Something must happen between now and to-morrow. I'll keep out of her way to-day, and in the fuss and excitement she'll forget about the ring. I have told one big lie about it, and I have insinuated a dozen more, and I vow and declare one thing—that I will not be discovered now. I'll go on to the bitter end now, come what will. Heigh-ho, is that you, Nan? What are you doing? Don't you know that Mrs. Willis has come? What is that you have in your hand?"
"It's a letter of yours," said Nan; "I found it in the garden under a rose bush; it's in Mrs. Willis's handwriting; didn't you say that you did not hear from her last week?"
"No more I did; give me that letter; it's quite an old one." Annie stretched out her hand, snatched the letter from Nan, and pushed it into her pocket.
"You didn't read it?" she asked.
"No, I'm not so mean; what is the matter with you?"