"But," continued the governess, "I wish you would trust me with the whole truth."
He shook his head. At this moment Mr. Wilton and his sister came in together.
"These are the circumstances, Roderick," began Miss Wilton at once. "Pray, Miss Nelson, allow me to speak. Here is the miniature, broken in two, disgracefully injured. Here, look at it—a deceased relative, I believe, of Miss Nelson's—stolen out of her room ten days ago. Basil, returns it this evening broken, says he does not know how it was broken and declines to tell how it got into his possession."
Mr. Wilton took the pieces of ivory into his hand, looked at the poor little distorted face, put the pieces back on the table, and turned to his son.
"Is your Aunt Elizabeth's version of this affair correct, Basil?" he inquired.
"Yes, father," replied Basil. "It is perfectly correct. I found the broken miniature, and I have just returned it."
"How did you find it?"
"I can't say, sir."
"You mean you won't say?"
"Very well, father; I won't say."