It struck Madge and Cara that their interest in the lost necklace was not very original. They harbored secret hopes of locating the pearls and had even been guilty of trying to connect Miss Swenster’s loss with the mysterious excavations of the midnight prowler. They were unwilling to believe that the story was pure legend. And the fact that two generations of Swensters had failed to recover the pearls, could not entirely daunt them.
“I had forgotten the matter until you girls reminded me of it,” Miss Swenster remarked. “Years ago, when my John was a little boy—”
She broke off, coloring. Then, apparently thinking that some explanation was expected, she finished lamely:
“John was my adopted son. As a boy, he was interested in the pearls too.”
It was the first time she had mentioned the name of her son. The girls realized that Miss Swenster had not intended to speak of him. The words had slipped out unbidden. Even to think of him seemed to distress her, for she quickly changed the subject.
The girls remained for luncheon, helping Miss Swenster prepare it. They worked through to four o’clock and as they left for their homes, asked if they might come again.
“Of course,” she assured them, “although I can’t see what fun you get out of working. If I could pay you—”
The girls hastily explained that they did not want pay. They really had enjoyed the day for it was fun to browse about the old mansion.
“And do you mind if we look around for those pearls?” Madge inquired. “In sorting out things we might stumble upon them.”
Miss Swenster smiled at her enthusiasm.