When she had left the shop the younger Mr. Pearce turned to his brother, took the little brooch from the drawer into which he had carelessly thrown it, and gave it to the elder Mr. Pearce to examine. “There’s a find here,” he said; “only, somehow, I feel a bit uncomfortable. How did one of the 129 young ladies from Aylmer House come by a treasure of this sort?”
The other man examined the brooch carefully. “It’s worth a good bit,” he said. “What did you give her for it?”
“Five pounds; but somehow I think that I ought not to have taken it for that sum.”
“It is worth at least two hundred,” said the elder Mr. Pearce. “Where did you say she lived?”
“She is one of the young ladies at Aylmer House—Miss Howland.”
“What! from Mrs. Ward’s school?”
“Yes.”
“You had better give me that brooch, Alfred,” said his brother. “We’ll have to consider what is to be done. We can’t rob the young lady of it. We had best consult Mrs. Ward.”
“Oh, as to that,” said the younger Pearce, “that sounds almost as shabby as giving the schoolgirl too little money.”
“Well, lock it up for the present,” said the elder Pearce; “but I am an honest tradesman, and I can’t see even a schoolgirl robbed.”