Viola afterward stole upstairs with a cup of tea and a tempting plate of cold chicken and toast, but Miss Douglas’ door was locked, and she could not gain admittance, so she was forced to take it back again to the dining-room.
The next morning Mrs. Coolidge and Isabel started off on a shopping expedition, and as the carriage drove from the door, Wilbur rang the library bell, and desired the servant who appeared to ask Miss Douglas to grant him a few moments’ conversation. The young man was pale and excited, and after the servant disappeared, he walked the floor nervously.
Brownie soon came down, looking haggard and wan, her usually bright eyes heavy and lusterless, and great dark circles underneath them.
Wilbur hastened forward to meet her as she opened the door.
“My dear Miss Douglas,” he said, flushing deeply, “I do not know what to say to you, but I am more indignant than I can express at the treatment you received yesterday.”
Brownie smiled wearily, though her lips quivered at his kindly words. It was so comforting to be treated civilly.
“Can I do anything for you, Miss Douglas?” Wilbur asked, eagerly, his heart deeply touched by her sorrowful appearance.
“Thank you; I do not suppose it is in your power to do the one thing I wish—give me back my jewels, for they are mine, Mr. Coolidge, notwithstanding it seems improbable for a poor girl to own such valuables,” she replied, her color rising.
“I do not doubt it in the least,” he answered, impulsively. “I know that you are truth and purity itself, and, believe me, you shall yet have your own.”
“Ah! can I?” she interrupted, her face lighting up with its wonted beauty for a moment.