She had come to this house a stranger, she had been kindly treated, and had grown fond of the young people who had entered into her life. The household had appeared a strange one, and things had puzzled her. Now something of bitterness sounded in her voice as she spoke her thoughts aloud.
"I trusted them—I trusted them all," and now—the fact could not be doubted, it had to be faced, and faced bravely, she had been robbed, it seemed, by someone in this house who must be a thief. And yet—Could she think it of any of them? The very suspicion sent the hot blood surging to her face—she had felt shamed by the idea of doubting her friends—for they had now become that to her. Even Betsy, the old and valued servant, had lately been ready to do anything for her, and James, too, did many little things which added to her comfort.
She was miserable and upset when she lay down to rest; she did not suspect anyone particularly, and yet the horrid fact that the jewels were gone could not be got over.
Margaret awoke the following morning with a headache; much of the night had been spent in restless, wakeful tossing. Not until the sun was shedding its soft beams through her lattice window did she fall into a troubled sleep.
Immediately after breakfast she asked to see Mrs. Medhurst, and poured out the story of her loss into sympathetic ears.
"My dear Miss Woodford, no wonder you are upset," she said. "Your beautiful necklace you showed me one day—you remember—gone? I can scarcely believe it. I can assure you there are no thieves in this house—at least I have every reason to believe Betsy and James to be above suspicion, they have been so many years in our service, and we have so trusted them—but of course one can never say one is perfectly sure. I suppose you have searched everywhere? Could it have fallen behind the dressing-chest?"
"No, I have looked; I don't think I have left a corner unsearched," answered Margaret. "I have not mentioned the matter to Betsy; I thought it better to speak to you first; I should not like to offend or hurt her, or James, by letting them imagine for a moment I suspected them."
"Quite right, my dear; I think the bare questioning would upset them; and my husband will be deeply concerned; I almost think I would say nothing about it to him just at present, he is not very well, and I am certain it would worry him. I quite expect you will find it somewhere. The children would not steal. Ellice might have looked at it, but beyond that——" and Mrs. Medhurst shrugged her shoulders expressively, denoting the impossibility of her child being implicated in the loss. "My little girl is troublesome, Miss Woodford, I admit it, but—not a thief," she added coldly, with a quick glance at Margaret's face, and a note of almost challenge in her voice.
"Oh, no—no, Mrs. Medhurst, I do not think little Ellice has had anything to do with it," answered Margaret. "She has come into my room sometimes with me, and looked at my things, but I am quite sure she would not dream of taking anything—please do not suppose I imagine it for a moment?"
"Ah, well, let us leave the matter for a little, and both of us keep our eyes open; at present I can see no explanation, but I have no doubt you will find your necklace. I should not mention the matter to the child, but have another good search. Ellice can be very troublesome, and she may have hidden it; if so, she must be punished."