“You do suspect some one?” said Violet, eagerly.
“No,” said he, slowly; “I have no sufficient reason for suspecting any one.”
“Tell me, Davie.”
“No; I have no right to tell my suspicions, or to suspect any one. It came into my head one night; but I know it is foolish and wrong, and I have nothing to tell.”
“When did it happen?” asked Violet, after a little.
David could not tell her the exact time. He had never been told the date of the receipt which Mr Oswald had given; but he thought it could not have been very long after his mother went away, though he had not heard of the loss till after Jem had gone.
Violet went here and there putting things to rights in the room, and said nothing for a good while. By and by she came and leaned over the chair in which David was sitting, and asked:
“David, when did Philip Oswald go away?”
David turned round and looked at her uneasily.
“A good while ago. Soon after you all went away to Gourlay. No, Violet—don’t say it,” said he, eagerly, as he met her look. “He could not do it. Why should he? He has all the money he wants. And, besides, he could not do such a thing.”