Lucy knew Mrs. Marvel by sight, prim and stately. But this morning she was a very perturbed and dishevelled lady. She had called to thank Lucy for having been interviewed on her behalf by the policemen.
“So kind of you, Mrs. Challoner. After I had sent them across, it occurred to me how rude and selfish it was—on Christmas Day too! But really you will pardon me, considering the state I was in. Imagine our coming home from church to find the house not only deserted, but with all the silver I had put out for the Christmas feast carried off, with a salver which Mr. Marvel got as a testimonial, and the very brooches which we had left sticking in our pin-cushions! After that, what did it matter that not only was no dinner prepared, but the turkey itself was taken away. And we had friends coming, among them the gentleman who is engaged to our youngest daughter.”
“It was very trying indeed,” said Lucy gently. “I have never suffered quite so bitterly, but I have suffered enough to know how it must have felt.”
“I suppose you can’t give us any other clues about the wretched girl,” panted Mrs. Marvel. “The police have already been to her former mistress’s house, and it is empty. It is said the people are gone abroad. You didn’t know anything of this girl’s family, did you?”
“She said she came from the country. She said her father had been a blacksmith. She named the village to me, but I own it escapes my mind just now,” Lucy admitted.
“Of course, one can’t be expected to burden one’s mind with such things,” said Mrs. Marvel.
“If she had stayed with me, I meant to have given her a summer holiday to visit her friends, and then I should have heard more about them,” Lucy remarked. “It is not easy to press questions without grounds. One has to rest satisfied at first with getting a character.” She paused rather abruptly, seeing that her remarks seemed to reflect on her visitor. But Mrs. Marvel was undisturbed by them.
“You didn’t detect her in any dishonesty while she was with you?” she asked.
“No, not the slightest,” said Lucy.
Mrs. Marvel looked compassionately at her hostess. “Ah, poor dear,” she said, “you are young—and—and busy. I daresay she plucked you a little without your noticing it.”