“What have you there?” she demanded, as she caught sight of the casket which her daughter carried.
“You remember, mamma, what I said about Miss Douglas being the possessor of such elegant jewels?” said Isabel, not heeding the question.
“Yes; you said you did not believe she came by them honestly. Why?”
“I am sure of it now. Look here!”
She suddenly threw back the lid of the casket, and placed it in her mother’s lap.
“Merciful heavens, child! Where did you get these? Ah!” she continued, as Isabel did not reply, “here are the very ornaments which Miss Douglas wore the other evening.”
She looked up at her daughter, and the two read each other’s faces in silence for a moment.
“You do not mean to tell me that you found all these in her possession?” she at length asked, in a low tone.
“I do, mamma,” Isabel said, impressively.
“But how did you happen to discover them? Surely, my daughter, you have not been guilty of prying into her things during her absence,” said Mrs. Coolidge, gravely.