The shining brown head was lifted a trifle, her delicate nostrils dilated, while an unwonted spark lighted those beautiful eyes, which never for a moment left the matron’s face. She requested to give a straightforward answer! When had she ever done otherwise? “I wish to ask you, Miss Douglas,” Mrs. Coolidge said, coming to the point at once, and feeling very uncomfortable beneath her look, “if you have anything in your possession which does not honestly belong to you?” She now fixed her stern gaze full upon the beautiful face. The battle was begun, and she was prepared to fight it out. For an instant all three—for Isabel had returned to the room, and now stood behind her mother’s chair, where she could watch her rival—could distinctly hear the ticking of Mrs. Coolidge’s watch, which lay upon the dressing table at her side. Then Brownie arose, and stood like an insulted princess before her inquisitor. “Madam, I ask—nay, I demand—to know why you put such a question to me!” she said, in low, firm tones. Her face had grown white as the narrow linen collar which she wore, and her eyes burned dangerously. “You forget yourself, Miss Douglas,” Mrs. Coolidge said, pompously. “It was I who asked you a question.” “And I consider such a question an insult, madam!” “Very well; I expected you would; all people who are guilty of wrong feel insulted, or appear to, when they are accused.” “Guilty of wrong! accused! I do not understand you, madam. Of what do you accuse me?” demanded the young girl, with a proud dignity which her employer had not expected from her. She began to feel a little shaky, but she was in for it now, and must go on. “I accuse you of having stolen costly articles and appropriating them to your own use,” she said, solemnly. “Explain yourself, if you please, Mrs. Coolidge.” Those brown eyes were almost black now, but her answer was intensely quiet, and the lovely face like a snowflake. “Allow me to ask you one question before I explain.” “Certainly.” “How came you by those beautiful jewels, those very costly ornaments, which you wore to the opera last Wednesday evening?” “They were given to me, madam.” “By whom?” “By a very dear friend.” There was a quiver in the sweet voice, a trembling of the scarlet lips, but the lovely eyes were bright and tearless. “How long have they been in your possession?” continued Mrs. Coolidge. “A little over three months, madam.” “Mamma, mamma, does not that prove enough?” burst out Isabel, triumphantly. “Why, she has been with us over two months, and she worked in the factory three weeks. Who would give a poor girl such jewels as those?” Brownie’s only reply to this outburst was a look of ineffable scorn, and the elder lady went on in a severe tone: “I fear, Miss Douglas, that your story is against you. When you sought employment from my husband you were in such circumstances that you were obliged to toil for your daily bread.”