“I’d never dare!”
“Black shame on—!”
“A nice creature, thou, Jan!” interrupted Miss Drinker, with a sudden carrying of the war into the enemy’s camp. “To tell me to go back when he’s sure to be dressing! No wonder thee makes indelicate speeches.”
Miss Meredith, without deigning to reply to this shameful implication, walked away toward the house.
That Tibbie intended to shirk the consequences of her misdemeanour was only too clearly proved to Janice, when later she went to her room to prink for supper, for lying on her dressing stand was the miniature. Shocked as Miss Meredith was at the sight, she lifted and examined the trinket.
Bred in colonial simplicity, it seemed to the maid that she had never seen anything quite so exquisite. A gold case, richly set with brilliants, encompassed the portrait of a girl of very positive beauty. After a rapt dwelling on the portrait for some minutes, further examination revealed the letters W. H. J. B. interlaced on the back.
Taking the miniature when her toilet had been perfected, Janice descended to the parlour. As she entered, Tabitha, already there, jumped up from a chair, in which, a moment previous she had been carrying on a brown study that apparently was not enjoyable, and tripped nonchalantly across the room to the spinet. Seating herself, she struck the keys, and broke out into a song entitled, “Taste Life’s Glad Moments as They Glide.”
Not in the least deflected from her intention, Miss Meredith marched up to the culprit, the bondsman’s property in her hand, and demanded, “Dost intend to turn thief?”
“Prithee, who ’s curious now?” evaded Tibbie. “I knew thee ’d look at it, for all thy airs.”
“Very well, miss,” threatened Janice, with much dignity. “Then I shall take it to him, and narrate to him all the circumstances.”