Meantime, Madam Conway had sought her granddaughter's chamber, where Theo in her fright had taken refuge under the bed, while Maggie feigned a deep, sound sleep. A few vigorous shakes, however, aroused her, when, greatly to the amazement of her grandmother, she burst into a merry laugh, and, winding her arms around the highly scandalized lady's neck, said: "Forgive me, grandma, I've been awake ever since you came home. I did not mean to leave the dining room in such disorder, but I was so tired, and we had such fun! Hear me out," she continued, laying her hand over the mouth of her grandmother, who attempted to speak; "Mrs. Jeffrey told you how Mr. Warner broke his leg, and was brought here. He is a real nice young man, and so is Mr. Douglas, who came out to see him. They are partners in the firm of Douglas & Co., Worcester."
"Henry Warner is nothing but the Co., though; Mr. Douglas owns the store, and is worth two hundred thousand dollars!" cried a smothered voice under the bed; and Theo emerged into view, with a feather or two ornamenting her hair, and herself looking a little uneasy and frightened.
The two hundred thousand dollars produced a magical effect upon the old lady, exonerating George Douglas at once from all blame. But towards Henry Warner she was not thus lenient; for, coward-like, Theo charged him with having suggested everything, even to the cutting up of the ancestral red coat for Freedom's banner!
"What!" fairly screamed Madam Conway, who in her hasty glance at the flag had not observed the material; "not taken my grandfather's coat for a banner!"
"Yes, he did," said Theo, "and Maggie cut up your blue satin bodice for stars, and took one of your fine linen sheets for the foundation."
"The wretch!" exclaimed Madam Conway, stamping her foot in her wrath, and thinking only of Henry Warner; "I'll turn him from my door instantly. My blue satin bodice, indeed!"
"'Twas I, grandma—'twas I," interrupted Maggie, looking reproachfully at Theo. "'Twas I who cut up the bodice. I who brought down the scarlet coat."
"And I didn't do a thing but look on," said Theo. "I knew you'd be angry, and I tried to make Maggie behave, but she wouldn't."
"I don't know as it is anything to you what Maggie does, and I think it would look quite as well in you to take part of the blame yourself, instead of putting it all upon your sister," was Madam Conway's reply; and, feeling almost as deeply injured as Mrs. Jeffrey herself, Theo began to cry, while Maggie, with a few masterly strokes, succeeded in so far appeasing the anger of her grandmother that the good lady consented for the young gentlemen to stay to breakfast, saying, though, that "they should decamp immediately after, and never darken her doors again."
"But Mr. Douglas is rich," sobbed Theo from behind her pocket handkerchief—"immensely rich, and of a very aristocratic family, I'm sure, else where did he get his money?"