As she opened the door, which had stood ajar ever since Brownie went out, she encountered Wilbur, face to face. She would rather have faced an alligator at that moment. “What is it you don’t wish Wilbur to know, and what jewels are you talking about?” he smilingly demanded, as he barred her passage. He had come up just in time to hear their last remarks. “That is my secret,” she replied, trying to turn the matter off playfully, though her heart was beating like a trip-hammer. “Are they in that box? Let me see.” Before she hardly knew what he was about, he had taken it from her and opened it. “Where did you get these?” he asked, in great surprise. “They are borrowed,” Isabel replied, giving her mother a significant look. “Borrowed! who could lend such a valuable collection as this?” he asked, beginning to feel, from their appearance, that all was not right. “Ah,” he added, with a start, after he had examined them more carefully, “here are those ornaments which Miss Douglas wore the other evening. Do the others belong to her, too?” They saw that it would be useless to try to keep their secret from him, and little by little he drew it all from their reluctant lips. A more indignant mortal never trod the earth than Wilbur Coolidge when he got at the truth of the matter. He demanded that the jewels be returned at once to Miss Douglas, and a suitable apology made for their insulting treatment of her. An angry scene ensued, which Mrs. Coolidge finally put an end to by coming forward, taking the casket from her son’s hand, and locking it within her husband’s safe, which stood in the room. “Now, Wilbur, be so kind as to hold your tongue,” she said, angrily, “you have made a fool of yourself with this girl. I intended to keep these things until your father returns, and see if he believes a poor governess came by these things lawfully.” “You women are regular tyrants, and I reckon when father does return there will be a different state of things,” he replied, with flashing eyes. “Oblige me by dropping the subject, my son; you are interfering in what does not concern you in the least,” returned Mrs. Coolidge, coldly. “I shall make it my business, madam, mother mine, just as soon as the law will allow, if the poor, abused darling will let me,” he muttered, as he angrily left the room. He watched for Brownie to come down all the evening, but she remained in her own room, too utterly miserable to desire to meet anyone. Viola and Alma inquired for her at tea time, but were told that she was indisposed, and would not come down. Viola afterward stole upstairs with a cup of tea and a tempting plate of cold chicken and toast, but Miss Douglas’ door was locked, and she could not gain admittance, so she was forced to take it back again to the dining-room.