Mademoiselle thrust her hand into her pocket, took out a soft, cambric handkerchief, unfolded it, and revealed the missing bangle.
“See!” she exclaimed. “Behold for yourself—I would convince myself, by visiting you at the beautiful Castle yesterday, and I remarked the bangle on the leetle Pauline’s slender wrist. I took a note of the fine engraving, and the pattern of it. Is not this précisément the same! See for yourself,” she added.
“Why, it is—it must be!” exclaimed Penelope. “So it is found out; did you discover it? How delighted Nellie will be! Are you coming up to the Castle to give it back to her to-night and to claim the reward? I know it will be given to you at once. Poor, dear little Nellie—she will be pleased!”
“Ah—ma chère!” said the French governess, “I act not so—I have not the heart so cruel!”
“But what do you mean?” asked Penelope, in great astonishment.
“You must listen to the histoire that I will tell to you. You must clearly first understand that this is the identical lost bangle—the bangle made of the eighteen carat gold—with the delicate engraving and the turquoise of the colour so pure, and of the form so rare and the size so marvellous. It is the identical one.”
“It certainly seems like it,” said Penelope.
“It is the same—rest assured.”
As Mademoiselle spoke, she folded up the bangle and transferred it to her pocket.
“I have something to say to you, chère enfant.”