Part 33 (1/2)

”Oh, hateful!” said Maggie to herself; ”what am I coming to, to suspect the brave, the n.o.ble-- I won't, I can't. Oh, how shall I look her in the face and feel that I ever, even for a second, thought of her so dreadfully.” Maggie searched through her purse again. ”Perhaps I dreamt that I put two notes here this morning,” she said to herself.

”But no, it is no dream; I put two notes into this division of my purse, I put four sovereigns here; the sovereigns are safe-- one of the notes is gone.”

She thought deeply for a few moments longer, then added a postscript to her letter:

”I am very sorry, but I can only send you one note for five pounds to-night. Even this, however, is better than nothing. I will give further help as soon as I hear from your friend.” Maggie then folded her letter, addressed, stamped it and took it downstairs.

Miss Oliphant was an heiress; she was also an orphan; her father and mother were mere memories to her; she had neither brothers nor sisters; she did not particularly like her guardian, who was old and worldly wise, as different as possible from the bright, enthusiastic, impulsive girl. Mr. Oliphant thought money the aim and object of life: when he spoke to Maggie about it, she professed to hate it. In reality she was indifferent to it; money was valueless to her because she had never felt its want.

She lay awake for a long time that night, thinking of Penywern Cottage, of tired Aunt Raby, of the little girls who wanted food, and education, and care, and love. After a time she fell asleep. In her sleep she ceased to think of Priscilla's relations: all her thoughts were with Priscilla herself. She dreamt that she saw Priscilla move stealthily in her room, take up her purse with wary fingers, open it, remove a note for five pounds and hide the purse once more under books and papers.

When Maggie awoke she professed not to believe in her dream; but, nevertheless, she had a headache, and her heart was heavy within her.

At breakfast that morning Miss Oliphant made a rather startling announcement. ”I wish to say something,” she remarked in her full, rich voice. ”A strange thing happened to me last night. I am not accounting for it; I am casting no aspersions on any one; I don't even intend to investigate the matter; still, I wish publicly to state a fact-- a five-pound note has been taken out of my purse!”

There were no dons or lecturers present when Miss Oliphant made this startling announcement, but Nancy Banister, Rosalind Merton, Priscilla Peel, Miss Day, Miss Marsh and several other girls were all in the room; they, each of them, looked at the speaker with startled and anxious inquiry.

Maggie herself did not return the glances; she was lazily helping herself to some marmalade.

”How perfectly shameful!” burst at last from the lips of Miss Day.

”You have lost five pounds, Miss Oliphant; you are positively certain that five pounds have been taken out of your purse. Where was your purse?” Maggie was spreading the marmalade on her bread and b.u.t.ter; her eyes were still fixed on her plate. ”I don't wish a fuss made,”

she said.

”Oh, that's all very fine!” continued Miss Day, ”but if five pounds are lost out of your purse, some one has taken them! Some one, therefore, whether servant or student, is a thief. I am not narrow-minded or prudish, but I confess I draw the line at thieves.”

”So do I,” said Maggie in an icy tone; ”still, I don't mean to make a fuss.”

”But where was your purse, Maggie, dear?” asked Nancy Banister; ”was it in your pocket?”

”No. I found it last night in my bureau, under some books and papers.”

Maggie rose from the table as she spoke. With a swift flash her brown eyes sought Priscilla's face; she had not meant to look at her, she did not want to; but a fascination she could not control obliged her to dart this one glance of inquiry.

Prissie's eyes met hers. Their expression was anxious, puzzled, but there was not a trace of guilt or confusion in them. ”I don't know how that money could have been taken, Maggie,” she said, ”for I was in your room. studying my Greek.” Prissie sighed when she mentioned her Greek. ”I was in your room studying Greek all the evening; no one could have come to take the money.”

”It is gone, however,” said Maggie. She spoke with new cheerfulness.

The look on Prissie's face, the tone in her voice made Maggie blush at ever having suspected her. ”It is gone,” she said in quite a light and cheerful way, ”but I am really sorry I mentioned it. As I said just now, I don't intend to investigate the matter. I may have fallen asleep and taken the five-pound note out in a dream and torn it up or put it on the fire. Anyhow, it has vanished, and that is all I have to say. Come, Prissie, I want to hear what Miss Heath said to you last night.”

”No,” suddenly exclaimed Annie Day, ”Miss Peel, you must not leave the room just now. You have made a statement, Miss Oliphant, which I for one do not intend to pa.s.s over without at least asking a few questions. You did not tear up that note in a dream. If it is lost, some one took it. We are St. Benet's girls, and we don't choose to have this kind of thing said to us. The thief must confess and the note must be returned.”

”All right,” said Maggie, ”I sha'n't object to recovering my property.

Priscilla, I shall be walking in the grounds; you can come to me when your council of war is over.”

The moment Maggie left the room Rosalind Merton made a remark. ”Miss Peel is the only person who can explain the mystery,” she said.

”What do you mean?” asked Priscilla.

”Why, you confess yourself that you were in Miss Oliphant's room the greater part of the evening.”