“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“And why ever would it hurt her? Is she jealous because you have got something—something so very, very pretty, and so—so—‘chic’?”
“I hate that word,” said Pauline, restlessly. “Well, I’ll just tell you the reason. I tell you because perhaps you will beg your sisters not to notice my bangle—I would so much rather they didn’t. The reason is this. Darlingest mother went to Paris not long ago and bought a bangle for each of us, one with a red stone—this ruby you see—for me, and one with the most lovely blue turquoise for Nellie, because Nellie’s birthday is in December, and that is the month for turquoises, and people who are born in December have the right to wear turquoises. And what do you think? Darling Nellie’s bangle is lost. We can’t imagine what’s become of it?”
“Is it being advertised in the paper?” asked Fanchon, opening her eyes very wide.
“Yes, of course it is. Have you seen the advertisement?”
“No, I haven’t, but I—I met a ma— a person last night and he—the person, I mean—saw the advertisement and—and—told me. I am so sorry, I hope you will get it back.”
“No—I am afraid we never will. The advertisement has been out some days now, and there has been no answer.”
“Who do you think took it?” asked Fanchon.
“Oh, one of the railway officials—it’s awful to think that those men should be so dishonest, but we’re certain it must be one of them, or, of course it might be a passenger in the train. Fred knows all about it. Fred thinks it must have been a passenger, but mother thinks it was an official. Anyhow, that doesn’t greatly matter, does it? Some one is a thief, and darling Nellie is without her bangle. I would much rather not wear mine—I really would—but mother insists, and I think she will get another for Nellie some day—that is, if Nellie is brave and doesn’t mind too much. But the loss of it has quite told upon her, and she isn’t half as good as she used to be, that’s why I don’t want you to speak of it.”