“It was here to-day,” she said. “Oh, yes, I have it. Just move that brick—”
Dorothy pressed closely to Urania, and she drew away the brick that now threatened to fall in on the hand of the gypsy girl.
“There!” said Urania, “Do you know what this is?”
“Oh!” screamed Dorothy, “Aunt Winnie’s East Indian cup!”
“Well—I give—up!” was all Major Dale seemed able to say, as he took from the hand of the gypsy girl the treasured relic.
“And you hid it there?” asked Dorothy, taking the cup from her father and holding it up to the candle light.
“No, indeed,” answered the girl. “I found it there. The men had the hole in the wall for their stuff, I suppose, and they saved the cup to drink out of.”
“Oh, how delighted Aunt Winnie will be,” exclaimed Dorothy. “Do let us hurry. She has been constantly worrying over the loss of this—it was to be given to Ned when he came of age.”
“That cup was the gift of an East Indian nobleman,” remarked Major Dale. “Urania, you have repaid us now for all our trouble.”
An hour later Urania had been bathed, dressed and fed by her friends at the Cedars. Mrs. White personally helped the maid to look after the girl’s wants, while Dorothy and Miette brought from their own belongings such articles as seemed fitting to make the poor, miserable, haunted gypsy girl comfortable at last.