oad lifted from her mind Jerry's recovery was rapid, and when
the autumnal suns were just beginning to tinge the woodbine on the Tramp
House and the maples in the park woods with scarlet, she took her
accustomed seat in Arthur's room and commenced her lessons again with
Maude, who had missed her sadly and who would have gone to see her every
day during her sickness if her mother had permitted it.

CHAPTER XXIII.

ARTHUR'S LETTER.

Two weeks had passed since Jerry's return to her lessons, and people had
ceased to talk of the missing diamonds, although the offered reward of
$500 was still in the weekly papers, and a detective still had the
matter in charge, without, however, achieving the slightest success. No
one had ever been suspected, and the thief, whoever he was, must have
been an expert, and managed the affair with the most consummate skill.
Now that she had another set, Mrs. Tracy was content, and peace and
quiet reigned in the household, except so far as Arthur was concerned.
He was restless and nervous, and given to fits of abstraction, which
sometimes made him forget the two little girls, one of whom watched him
narrowly; and once when they were alone and he seemed unusually absorbed
in thought, she asked him if he were trying to think of something.

'Yes,' he said, looking up quickly and eagerly; 'that is it. I am trying
to remember something which, it seems to me, I ought to remember; but I
cannot, and the more I try, the farther it gets from me. Do you know
what it is?'

Jerry hesitated a moment, and then she asked:

'Is it the diamonds?'

'Diamonds! No. What diamonds? Didn't I tell you never to say diamonds to
me again? I am tired of it,' he said, and in his eyes there was a gleam
which Jerry had never seen there before when they rested upon her. It
made her afraid, and she answered, meekly:

'Then I cannot help you to remember.'

'Of course not. No one can,' Arthur replied, in a softened tone. 'It is
something long ago, and has to do with Gretchen.'

Then suddenly brightening, as if that name had been the key to unlock
his misty brain, he added;

'I have it; I know; it has come to me at last! Gretchen always sets me
right. I wrote her a letter long ago--a year, it seems to me--and it has
never been posted. Strange that I should forget that; but something came
up--I can't tell what--and drove it from my mind.'

As he talked he was opening and looking in the drawer which Jerry had
neve