Mrs. Lease spoke then. "If you say this again, Lettice Lane, I'll tell my lady all. And indeed, I have been wanting to tell her ever since I heard that something had gone. It was for your sake I did not." "For my sake!" shrieked Lettice. "Well, it was. I'm sure I'd not like to say it if I could help, Lettice Lane; but it did strike me that you might have been tempted to--to--you know." So it was accusation and counter-accusation. Which of the two confessed first was uncertain; but in a short time the whole was known to the house, and to Lady Whitney. On the previous night the upper housemaid was in bed with some slight illness, and it fell to Lettice Lane to put the rooms to rights after the ladies had dressed. Instead of calling one of the other servants she asked Mrs. Lease to help her--which must have been for nothing but to gossip with the nurse, as Lady Whitney said. On Miss Deveen's dressing-table stood her case of jewels, the key in the lock. Lettice lifted the lid. On the top tray glittered a heap of ornaments, and the two women feasted their eyes with them. Nurse Lease declared that she never put "a finger's end" on a single article. Lettice could not say as much. Neither (if they were to be believed) had observed the green studs; and the upper tray was not lifted to see what was underneath. Miss Cattledon, who made one at the uproar, put in her word at this, to say they were telling a falsehood, and her face had enough vinegar in it to pickle a salmon. Other people might like Miss Cattledon, but I did not. She was in a silent rage with Miss Deveen for having chosen to keep the jewel-case during their stay at Whitney Hall, and for carelessly leaving the key in it. Miss Deveen took the loss calmly, and was as cool as a cucumber. "I don't know that the emerald studs were in the upper tray last night; I don't remember to have seen them," Miss Deveen said, as if bearing out the assertion of the two women. "Begging your pardon, madam, they _were_ there," stiffly corrected Miss Cattledon. "I saw them. I thought you would put them on, as you were going to wear your green satin gown, and asked if I should lay them out; but you told me you would choose for yourself." Miss Deveen had worn diamonds; we had noticed their lustre. "I'm sure it is a dreadful thing to have happened!" said poor Lady Whitney, looking flurried. "I dare not tell Sir John; he would storm the windows out of their frames. Lease, I am astonished at _you_. How could you dare open the box?" "I never did open it, my lady," was the answer. "When I got round from the bed, Lettice was standing with it open before her." "I don't think there need be much doubt as to the guilty party," struck in Miss Cattledon with intense acrimony, her eyes swooping down upon Lettice. And if they were not sly and crafty eyes, never you trust me again.