“He just begged me to take the beads, he called them,” continued Mary. “He said an old Indian threatened to murder him for them!”
“There! You see! That was the Turk!” As the Steppy grew more excited Jack made sure the door was tightly closed. Also she put a reminding hand on the nervously tapping finger tips. “I know, dear,” agreed the woman. “But you can’t blame me—”
“I don’t.”
Gloria thought she caught a flush of guilt cross Jack’s face as she now looked into her stepmother’s face. “Like Mary,” Jack added, “I have been foolishly ashamed of the circus.”
“Well, if you ever knew what your father’s horses were worth! Why, you dear little idiot, what do you suppose has made you rich?” asked the vehement Steppy.
“I’d just hate to know,” parried Jack.
“Well, you were saying, dear,” to Mary, “about poor old Jim?” Mrs. Corday was not to be denied the story.
“I took the beads to please him. I had no idea they were of any account. When I reached our home darling mother was—going——”
“And what was the pretty little name she used to call you?” broke in the woman with kind intentions. “Something like Rosette?”
“Miette,” said Mary. “It means little or crumb in French and is a sort of pet name for Mary.”