"You didn't open them to take anything out?"
"What should I want with the things in the baby-house?"
"Did you, or did you not!"
"I--I didn't--at least--"
"In one word, did you open them? yes or no."
"No."
"What time did you go out after eating your dinner?"
"Bother! how is one to remember! It's all nonsense making such a fuss. The children fancied they put in ever so much more than they did, and very likely took out some."
"No; David's reckoning was accurate. I wrote down all I knew of; and I am sure none was taken out, for early that very morning I had put in a sixpence myself, and the cup was then full of coppers, with that little silver threepenny of David's with the edge turned up upon the top."
"Then you must have left the door undone!" said Henry delighted.
"I dare not be positive," said Christabel; "but I believe I remember bolting it; and if I had not done so, it would have flown open sooner."
"Oh, but the wind, you know."
"If the doors did open, it would not account for the loss of the money."
"Well, I can't help it," said Henry ungraciously, trying to move off: but she first required him to tell her what he had said to the younger boys to make them suspect Elizabeth.
"Did I?" said Henry, "I am sure I didn't; at least, if I did, I only said Bess peeped everywhere, and was very close. I didn't suspect her, you know."
"I should think not!" said Miss Fosbrook indignantly. "Now please to come up with me."
"I want to go out," said Henry.
No, she would not let him go. She thought Elizabeth ought to clear herself, so far as it could be done, by making her secret known, since that had drawn suspicion on her; and when all the children were together, she called the little girl and told her so.
"It is very unkind of them," said Bessie, with trembling lip; "but they shall see, if they want THAT to show I am not a thief!"
"I said I wouldn't see," said Susan. "You knows Bessie, I trust you."
"And I," said Sam; "I don't care for people's secrets. I don't want to pry into Bessie's."
No one followed their example; all either really suspected, or else were full of curiosity, and delighted to gratify it.
Half a dozen slips of card, with poor little coloured drawings on them, and as many lengths of penny ribbon!
"Is that all?" said Annie, much disappointed.
"So that's what Bet made such a fuss about," said John; and David's face fell, as if he had really expected to see the lost pence.
The next thing, after the search had been made through all the children's bed-rooms, was to go to the nursery: and thither Miss Fosbrook allowed only Susan and Sam to follow her. Nurse Freeman was very stiff and stately, but she had no objection to searching; and the boy and girl began the hunt, while Miss Fosbrook meantime cautiously asked whether Nurse were sure of Rhoda, and if she were trustworthy.
This made Mrs. Freeman very angry; and though her words were respectful, she showed that she was much offended at the strange lady presuming to suspect anyone, especially one under her charge.
Miss Fosbrook wanted to have asked Rhoda whether the doors were open or shut when she carried Henry his dinner, but Nurse would not consent to call her. "I understood the nursery and the girl were to be my province," she said. "If Miss Merrifield heard her mamma say otherwise, then it is a different thing."
Susan cowered into the dark cupboard. Nurse must be in a dreadful way to call her Miss Merrifield, instead of Missy!
Nothing more could be done. The pence could not be found. Nurse would not let Rhoda be examined; and all that could be found out from the children had been already elicited.
Christabel could only beg that no more should be said, and, her head aching with perplexity, hope that some light might yet be thrown on the matter. There must be pain and grief whenever it should be explained; but this would be far better, even for the offender, than the present deception: and the whole family were in a state of irritation and distrust, that hurt their tempers, and made her bitterly reproach herself with not having prevented temptation by putting the hoard under lock and key.
She ordered that no more should be said about it that evening, and made herself obeyed; but play was dull, and everything went off heavily. The next morning, Susan came back early from her housekeeping business, with her honest face grave and unhappy, and finding Miss Fosbrook alone, told her she had something REALLY to say to her if she might; and this being granted began, with the bright look of having found a capital notion: "I'll tell you what I wish you would do."
"Well?"
"If you would call every one in all the house, and ask them on their word and honour if they took the pence."
"My dear, I am not the head of the house, and I have no right to do that; besides, I do not believe it would discover it."
"What! could a thief get in from out of doors!" said Susan looking at the window.
"Hardly that, my dear; but I am afraid a person who could steal would not scruple to tell a falsehood, and I do not wish to cause this additional sin."
"It is very horrid; I can't bear it," said Susan, puckering up her face for tears. "Do you know, Miss Fosbrook, the maids are all so angry that you said anything about Rhoda?"
"You did not mention it, my dear?"
"Oh no; nor Sam. It was Nurse herself! But they all say that you want to take away her character; and they won't have strangers put over them."
"Pray, Susie; don't tell me this. It can do no good."
"Oh, but PLEASE!" cried Susan. "And then Mary--I can't think how she could--but she said that poor dear Bessie was always sly, and that she had been at the cupboard, and had got the pence; but she was your favourite, and so you vindicated her. And Nurse began teasing her to confess, and tell the truth, and told her she was a wicked child because she would not; but it was all because we were put under strangers! I'm sure they do set on Johnnie and Davie to be cross to her."
"When was this, my dear?"
"Last night, when we went to the nursery to be washed. It was our night, you know. Oh! I wish Mamma was well!"
"Indeed I do my dear. And how did poor Bessie bear it!"
"She got quite white, and never said a word, even when they told her she was sulky. But when we got into bed, and I kissed her and cuddled her up, oh! she did cry so; I didn't know what to do. So, do you know, I got my shawl on, and went and called Sam; and he was not gone to sleep, and he came and sat by her, and told her that he believed her, and knew she was as sound a heart of oak as any of us; and we both petted her, and Sam was so nice and kind, till she went to sleep. Then he went to the nursery, and told Nurse how horrid it was in her; but Cook said it only made her worse, because she is jealous of our taking part with you."
"My dear, I DO like to hear of your kindness to Bessie; but I wish you would not mind what any of the maids say, nor talk to them about it. It only distresses you for nothing."
"But I can't help it," said Susan.
"You could not help this attack in the nursery, but you need not talk to Cook or Mary about it. It is of no use to vex ourselves with what people say who don't know half a story."
"Can't you tell them not?" said simple Susan.
"No, I cannot interfere. They would only do it the more. We can only keep Bessie as much out of the way of the maids as we can, and show our confidence in her."
Certainly Elizabeth had been known to look infinitely more glum when nothing was the matter than under all this vexation, even though the servants were really very unkind to her; and her two little brothers both behaved as ill as possible to her whenever they had the opportunity--David really believing that she had made away with the money, and ought to be tortured for it; and Johnnie taking it on his word, and being one of those little boys who have a positive taste for ill-nature, and think it fun. They pinched her, they bit her, they rubbed out her sums, they shut up her lesson-books and lost her place, they put bitten crusts into her plate, and did whatever they knew she most disliked, whenever Miss Fosbrook or Sam was not in the way; but she never told. She did not choose to be called a tell- tale; and besides, they really did not succeed in making her life miserable, so much was she pleased with the real kindness her trouble had brought out from Susan and Sam. Susan could not prevent the persecution of the two naughty little boys, but she defended her sister to her utmost; and Sam cuffed them if they said a word or lifted a finger against Bessie before him; and he gave her such notice and kindness as she never had received from him before. One afternoon, when he was going to walk to Bonchamp, he asked leave for her to come with him, and would take nobody else; and hot day as it was, Bessie had never had such a charming walk. She kept herself from making one single fuss; and in return, he gathered wild strawberries for her, showed her a kingfisher, and took her to look in at a very grand aquarium in the fishing-tackle maker's window, where she saw some gold-fish, and a most comical little newt. And going home, they had a real good talk about their father's voyage, and how they should get on without him; and Bessie found to her great pleasure, that Sam hoped Miss Fosbrook would stay when Mamma Came home.