She hung breathless on his reply.
“I knew of her, although I never made her acquaintance, until your brother introduced me at the opera the other evening.”
She breathed more freely now; he had not given Brownie the gems, that was evident. He knew nothing of the card.
“I have friends who know her intimately,” he went on, watching her keenly, to mark the effect of his words. “She was a Philadelphian, and belonged to a very wealthy and honorable family. About a month ago—perhaps a little more—death and misfortune suddenly deprived her of everything. She is very highly educated, as undoubtedly you have discovered, and before the trouble came upon her, she moved in the very best circles. I speak of this merely to show you why I believe it impossible for Miss Douglas to be guilty of what you accuse her. I trust, also, to hear ere long that you have been mistaken.”
And with this thorn planted in Miss Isabel’s conscience, Adrian Dredmond bowed himself from her presence, leaving her astounded, confused, and with a heavy weight of guilt upon her heart.
What had she done?
Accused an innocent girl of theft, and stolen a fortune from her; then driven her forth in disgrace into an uncharitable world to beg her bread or starve; for likely as not it would come to that since she had no recommendation wherewith to gain another place.
She sat for an hour in anything but agreeable meditation.
She did not know what to do, or which way to turn in the matter. Had she known Miss Douglas’ address, she would have hastened to send the casket to her, and considered herself lucky to be so well rid of it.
“If only Wilbur did not know about it, mamma and I could hide the jewels, and deny all knowledge of them,” she murmured, in deep perplexity.