“There’s no use in concealing it,” said Brenda. “I am not sorry—I mean, I’m only sorry to be found out. Mrs Hungerford, this is what happened. Do you remember driving up with me to Hazlitt Chase on the day of the prize-giving? You stepped—oh—out of the carriage, and as you did so you dropped the bangle on the ground, I saw it: I coveted it: I took it: I slipped it into my pocket. I put you off the scent by telling my sister that doubtless you had dropped it in the train. I am the thief. I await my punishment: it is prison, it it not? Very well; I have confessed. I think it is most likely that Mr Beverley is a magistrate. He can send for the police, and put me into prison. I stole the bangle: Mademoiselle found it. I am a thief, and Penelope is the sister of one. That is all.”
“Oh, poor girl!” said Mrs Hungerford. She rose slowly from her seat and left the room. In a few minutes she returned. She brought with her three sovereigns and three shillings.
“These are for you,” she said to Mademoiselle. “This is the reward offered. You have led to the discovery of the bangle—I don’t want to know how—take your reward, and go.”
“Yes, please go at once,” said Honora.
There was a quality in her young voice which the Frenchwoman had never heard before, and there was such a ring of scorn in Mrs Hungerford’s tone that it seemed—as Mademoiselle afterwards expressed it—“to wither even the very vitals.” She took her money sulkily and, without a word, left the presence of the others, never to be seen by them again.
What followed can be easily explained. Mrs Hungerford was a good woman. Honora had learned some lessons in the higher life. Now Mrs Hungerford and Honora were certainly not going to punish Penelope, and their one earnest desire was to rescue Brenda.
They left the sisters alone for a short time, and talked together.
“That poor, poor, pretty girl!” said Mrs Hungerford. “Oh, of course what she did was dreadful, but we just mustn’t let her go under, must we, Honora?”
“I knew you would feel like that,” said Honora, “I felt certain of it. You can little guess what Penelope has suffered; she is a splendid girl. Her mission at present in life is to help her sister.”