The Children of Wilton Chase

"Perhaps I shall get it back," she said after a pause. "But it won't be the same to me again. No, nothing can be the same. I've got a shock. Basil, I have worked for you all. When your mother died, I came – I came at her request. A more brilliant governess could have taught your sisters, but I can truly say no one more conscientious could have ministered to them, and no one on the whole could have loved them more faithfully. I have, however, been misunderstood. Only one of your sisters has responded to me. Marjorie has been sweet and true and good; the others – not that I blame little Lucy much – a child is always led by her elders – but – "

"What does all this mean?" said Basil, almost sternly. He knit his brows. He felt that he was going to be somebody's champion, and there was fight in his voice.

"This is what it means, Basil," said Miss Nelson. "I am sorry to pain you, but I believe Ermengarde has taken my miniature."

"Ermie a thief? What do you mean? She's my sister – she's a Wilton! How can you say that sort of thing, Miss Nelson? No wonder poor Ermie does not quite get on with you."

"She never gets on with me, Basil. She is disobedient, she is unresponsive. I have taken more pains for her than for the others. To-day I was obliged to punish her for two offenses of a very grave character. She took my miniature out of revenge; I am sure of it."

"No, I am certain you are mistaken. You have no right to accuse her like this."

"I wish I could think I was mistaken, Basil, but all circumstances point to the fact that Ermengarde in revenge took away my portrait. I locked her into this room as a punishment, as a severe punishment for a most grave offense. She was very angry and very defiant. The picture was in its usual place when I locked her into the room. She spent the greater part of the day here. When I come here to-night the portrait has been exchanged for another."

"Yes; your room has been empty for hours. Some one else has come in and done the thing, if indeed it has been done at all."

"What do you mean? The picture is gone!"

"The housemaid may have been dusting, and put another in its place."

"No, Basil, the housemaid would not touch my private possessions; I dust them and arrange them myself. I dusted my miniature only this morning, and this white rosebud and maidenhair I placed under it. I always put fresh flowers under my portrait; I did so to-day as usual. No, as you say, there are no thieves at Wilton Chase. Ermie has taken the miniature out of revenge. She knew I valued it."

"You are mistaken," said Basil, "and I think you are cruel!"

He left the room in a great rage.

CHAPTER VII.

A GOOD, BOYISH SORT OF GIRL

The next day was Saturday. The lessons done this morning by Ermengarde, Marjorie, and Lucy were little more than nominal. A master came to give the little girls instruction in music at eleven o'clock, and after their half-hour each with him, they were considered free to spend the rest of the day as they pleased.

Rather to Basil's surprise Miss Nelson said nothing whatever to Ermie about the loss of her miniature. The governess's face was very pale this morning, and her eyes had red rims round them, as though she had wept a good deal the previous night. She was particularly gentle, however, and Basil, who alone knew her secret, could not help being sorry for her.

He was still angry, for he thought her idea about Ermengarde both unjust and cruel; but her softened and sad demeanor disarmed him, and he longed beyond words to give her back the miniature.

Ermie was in excellent spirits this morning. She thought herself well out of yesterday's scrape, and she looked forward to a long and happy afternoon with her brothers. She was particularly bright and attentive over her lessons, and would have altogether won Miss Nelson's approval, had not her sad mind been occupied with other matters.

Marjorie was the first to go to her music lesson this morning. She returned from it at half-past eleven, and then Ermengarde went to receive Mr. Hill's instructions.

Basil was standing in the passage, sharpening a lead pencil as she passed.

"I'll be free at twelve, Basil," she called to him. "Where shall I find you?"

"I'll be somewhere round," he replied, in a would-be careless tone. "Maggie, is that you? I want to speak to you."

He seemed anxious to get away from Ermengarde, and she noticed it, and once more the cloud settled on her brow.

"Come out, Mag; I want to speak to you," said Basil. "You are free at last, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes; I'm free. What were you so chuffy to Ermie, for? You seemed as if you didn't care to have her with you!"

"Oh, don't I care? I'm thinking of her all the time. It's about her I want to speak to you, Maggie, But, first of all have you heard of Miss Nelson's loss?"

"No, what loss?"

"Some one has taken a miniature out of her sitting-room."

"A miniature? Which – which miniature? Speak, Basil."

"You needn't eat me with your eyes, Maggie. I don't know. I didn't do it!"

"Oh, no; but what miniature is it, Basil?"

"I tell you, I didn't see it, Maggie. It hung over her mantelpiece, and she kept flowers under it. She seemed to prize it a great lot."

"Not the picture of a rather silly little girl with blue eyes and a smile? Not that one? Don't tell me it was that one, Basil."

"Then you do know about it. I suppose it was that one. She was in an awful state."

"No wonder. Oh, poor Miss Nelson!"

"Do talk like a reasonable being, Maggie. What was there so marvelously precious in the picture of a silly little girl?"

"Yes, but that silly little girl was her own – not her child, but her sister, and she loved her beyond all the world, and – the little sister went to the angels. Once she told me about her – only once. It was on a Sunday night. Oh, poor Miss Nelson!"

"Well, don't cry, Mag – she must have the picture back. She has got a horrid thought in her head about it, though."

"A horrid thought? Miss Nelson has a horrid thought? Oh, Basil, don't you begin to misunderstand her."

"Shut up!" said Basil. "Who talks about my misunderstanding her? She has got a wrong notion into her head about Ermie, that's all. She thinks Ermie took the miniature out of revenge. There! Is not that bad enough? Now, what's the matter, Maggie? You are not going to tell me that you think Miss Nelson is right?"

"No," said Marjorie, shaking her fat little self, after an aggravating habit of hers when she was perplexed. "Of course I don't think anything of the kind, still – " She was remembering Ermengarde's agitation of the day before – her almost frantic wish to return alone to the house.

Marjorie grew quite red as this memory came over her.

"Well, won't you speak?" said Basil. "Miss Nelson must get back her miniature."

"Of course she must, Basil."

"She believes that Ermengarde took it."

"Yes; of course she is mistaken."

"She is very positive."

"Oh, that's a way of hers. She's quite obstinate when she gets an idea into her head."

"A fixed idea, eh?" Basil laughed.