“Why? what? where?” said Mrs Dawson.
“What—where?” echoed Mademoiselle. “Here—I say; here! I tell no more yet; but go not to bed this evening until I relate the whole of this histoire!”
She withdrew immediately, and Mrs Dawson sat back in her chair and said “Well!” to herself several times. The little girls were waiting for Mademoiselle in the passage. Nina, notwithstanding her ecstasy of spirit, was a little cross; for, whatever her faults, she was singularly downright and, up to the present, singularly honest.
“Why did you snatch Fanchon’s bracelet from me?” she said, “and rush with it into Mrs Dawson’s room? I don’t want Mrs Dawson to know that I am wearing it—she’ll tell, and then where will poor Josie and I be!”
“Tell!” echoed Mademoiselle. “She’ll never tell—it makes not for her interest. Restez tranquille, mon enfant, bien aimée; you have notting to fear—put on your bangle so beautiful, and come with me to enjoy my surprise!”
Mademoiselle’s surprise was of a complex nature. First of all, she took the little girls to a jeweller’s shop, and there went to the unheard-of extravagance of purchasing for them a little brooch each. Of course these, little brooches were not real gold, but they were very pretty and were washed over with that precious metal. One was set with pearls, also of a dubious kind, and the other with a turquoise.
At the neck of Nina’s little dress the turquoise brooch was now affixed, while Josie revelled in the one which held the pearls.
“These are for children the most to be adored,” said Mademoiselle. “You will wear them whenever you go out with me. Why should Fanchon have the bangle so pretty,—so ‘chic’—oh, yes, it is very ‘chic’—I can see that. Now, just, my dear ones, walk outside the shop for a leetle, a very leetle time, while I pay for the so great surprises I have got for you.”
The girls obeyed. It seemed to them that each passer-by must notice their pretty brooches. They held their little heads high; they sniffed in the soft evening air. While they were absent, Mademoiselle eagerly asked to see a tray of bangles. She quickly discovered one somewhat like in design to the valuable bangle which was now reposing on Nina’s wrist. She paid a trifling sum for it. It did not matter at all that it was made of the commonest gilt, and that the stone was no more a turquoise than she was herself; nor that the delicate engraving was lacking. Her object was to exchange the false bangle for the real one. This she trusted to be able to do. She was now in high spirits. She had parted with a few trifling shillings. Her discovery was imminent, and she felt that she would be well rewarded. Already she had compared the precious gold bangle with the delicate tracery in her notebook. Yes: without doubt it was the missing trinket. The reward, trivial in itself, must be shared with Mrs Dawson. But there were other issues at stake.
Mademoiselle took the little Amberleys to the choice seclusion of the best promenade. There she gave them ices and also a right good time. She was lavish with her money that evening. The children never laughed more in the whole course of their lives. They were quite free in their confidences to Mademoiselle, and implored her more than once to be their governess to supersede “dreadful Brenda,” and to live in the house with dearest papa.