she made an omelette--and coffee--and I
helped to lay the table--and to wash the things afterwards--and she told
me Monsieur has got some more lessons. Then she brought me home, and on
the way we saw Mrs Jones standing in the door of the shop. She's not a
nice-looking woman, but Mademoiselle says she has a noble heart. I
should think it must be horrid to be a butcher's wife. Shouldn't you?"

Pausing for a reply, Susan gave a nervous glance at her companion, whose
eyes were still fixed upon her, and who took no notice whatever of the
question.

"Did Mademoiselle send a message to me about the collar?" she asked.

"No, she didn't," said Susan. Then, seeing how crest-fallen the poor
little face looked, she added hastily:

"I expect she means to come and thank you herself, or perhaps to write
you a letter."

A small tear had gathered in each of Sophia Jane's eyes, but she winked
them quickly away.

"You're _sure_," she said in a troubled voice, "that she understood it
was from me?"

The moment had come. Susan looked straight back in her friend's face
and answered instantly:

"Yes; I am quite sure."

It was over. She had now told a real story--a very bad one. Nothing
worse could happen.

Sophia Jane seemed satisfied, She gave a little sigh, and said softly:

"Thank you. Then I expect she'll write."

After this she did not mention the collar again, but was willing to play
at dominoes, though she could not get through more than one game.

"I'm tired now," she said. "You may read aloud." When, however, she
found that Susan had only brought a book of fairy tales, she was much
displeased, and declared fretfully that fairy tales were nonsense.
"They're wicked too," she added, "because they tell stories."

Susan disputed this, whereupon Sophia Jane grew so excited and angry,
and spoke in such a shrill voice that Buskin came in from the next room
to see what was the matter.

"You've been here long enough, Miss Susan," she said, glancing at Sophia
Jane's flushed cheeks. "You better go down-stairs and let Miss Sophia
Jane be quiet. It's time she took her medicine."

Susan collected her property and went away. There were a good many
things to carry, but she took one with her which weighed more heavily
than all the rest put together--the knowledge that she had told a story.

And now, at last, her eyes were opened wide, and she could see clearly
the tangled web she had been weaving for some time past.