not join in the laugh, she was feeling intensely solemn.

"Miss Nelson is very angry, and in dreadful trouble," Basil went on
presently. "I quite thought she would speak to Ermengarde this
morning."

"She has not said a word, Basil."

"I know that."

"Basil, let me speak to Ermie."

"But now, you're not going to accuse her, or any rubbish of that sort,
Maggie?"

"As if I would, Basil!"

"Then I wish you would speak to her. I'm uncomfortable enough about
the whole thing, I can tell you. I hate to have anybody think such
thoughts of Ermie."

"I'll tell her," said Marjorie eagerly. "I'll tell her the miniature
is lost."

She ran off, and Basil took another pencil out of his pocket and began
to sharpen it. He did not like the aspect of affairs at all. His
interview with Marjorie had given him no real satisfaction. Marjorie
had not thrust the idea of Ermie's guilt from her with the horror he
had expected. Of course she had agreed with him, but not with that
emphasis he had desired. He felt rather sickened. If Ermengarde could
be mean and shabby, if by any possibility, however remote, Ermengarde
had stooped to theft for the sake of a petty and small revenge, then
he was very sorry he had not gone to Scotland, that was all. He'd give
up Ermie if she was that kind, but of course she wasn't. It was horrid
of him to lend even half credence to such a belief. He would go and
have a game of cricket with Eric, and get such a monstrous idea out of
his head.

When they were preparing for dinner, Marjorie told her sister about
the stolen miniature. She told the story in her own characteristic
way. She was determined to take no unfair advantage of Ermie, and so,
while washing her hands, and purposely splashing the water about, and
with her back so turned that she could not get a glimpse of Ermie's
face, she burst forth with her news. When she turned round, Ermengarde
was calmly combing out her long hair.

"It's dreadful, isn't it?" said Marjorie.

"Dreadful," echoed Ermengarde, but her voice did not sound excited.

"And she was so fond of that little sister," continued Marjorie.

"I never heard of any sister," said Ermengarde in a profoundly
uninterested voice. "Let us come down to dinner, Maggie; the gong has
sounded."

Marjorie gave vent to a very heavy sigh. She had got no satisfaction
out of Ermengarde, and yet her manner gave her a sense of insecurity.
She recalled again Ermie's strange excitement of the evening