"Lost it!" he repeated. "How? Where?" "While I was out----" "She was just beginning to tell me when you came in," interrupted Elsie. "We are both frightened to death, so don't scold." "Such unpardonable carelessness," continued Mr. Mellen. "At least, Elizabeth, you need not appear so indifferent." "I am sorry, very sorry," she answered coldly. "Oh, if I had lost mine, I should be wretched," cried Elsie, kissing hers. "You dear old bracelet!" Elizabeth shot one terrible look at her, but was silent. "I am glad that you at least prize my gift," said Mr. Mellen. "I suppose you have not taken the trouble to search, Elizabeth?" "I have had no time----" "The moon is down," said Elsie. "There are lanterns, I suppose." He rang and ordered a servant to bring a lantern, went out and searched for the missing ornament, while Elsie cowered over the hall fire and Elizabeth stood, cold and white, in the way. Clorinda came out of her domain while Mr. Mellen and Dolf were searching the hall. "Lost something marster?" she demanded, with the coolness peculiar to her race. "Missis has lost her bracelet," interposed Dolf. "Laws!" cried Clorinda, not perceiving her mistress on the veranda. "I neber seed nobody lose tings so; 'taint a month since she lost a di'mond ring, and all she said, when her maid missed it, was, 'It can't be helped.'" This was an aside to Dolf, but Mr. Mellen heard the words plainly, so did Elizabeth. "I'll bet yer don't find it," pursued Clorinda. "I heerd steps early in de evenin'; I knows I did, though missis called me a foolish cullud pusson once when I told her of hearing 'em. Dar's thieves about, now; member I tells yer!" "Clorinda," called Elizabeth, "go into the house. The next time you venture any remark on me you will leave my service." Clorinda sallied back as if she had been shot, and darted into her own dominions, less favorably disposed than ever towards the mistress for reproving her before Dolf. Mr. Mellen dismissed the man, walked into the veranda and confronted his wife. He was pale as death, in the moonlight. His agitation made Elizabeth more sternly cold; she knew that look, she had borne it in his suspicious, jealous moments in the old time. "Did you lose that bracelet, Elizabeth?" he asked. "Did I not say so?" she retorted. "I can't understand it," he went on; "these sudden frights and tremors, these mysterious losses----" "The old suspicions," she broke in, goaded into defiance by the actual danger. "You promised me to have done with all those things, Grantley." "Admit at least----" "I will admit nothing. I will not talk to you when you speak in that tone. I am sorry the bracelet is gone, but I am not a child to be threatened." Elsie heard it all, and when the dialogue reached that point she crept quietly upstairs, determined that at least she would be beyond even the sound of their difficulty.