Janet laughed presently. "I think it was a sort of mutual warning, Aunt Jemima. Lettice acknowledged to me that she was hardly equal to the care of the children; and I told her I thought she was not. We found her another place." "A rolling-stone gathers no moss," commented Cattledon. "Lettice Lane changes her places too often." "She stayed some time with Miss Deveen, Aunt Jemima. And she likes her present place. She gets very good wages, better than she had with me, and helps to keep her mother." "What may her duties be? Is she housemaid again?" "She is lady's-maid to Lady Jenkins, an old lady who lives up the London Road. Lettice has grown much stronger since she went there. Why, what do you think, Aunt Jemima?" added Janet, laughing, "Lettice has actually been to Paris. Lady Jenkins went there just after engaging Lettice, and took her." Miss Cattledon tossed her head. "Much good that would do Lettice Lane! Only fill her up with worse conceits than ever. I wonder she is not yet off to Australia! She used always to be talking of it." "You don't appear to like Lettice Lane, ma'am," smiled old Tamlyn. "No, I do _not_, sir. Lettice Lane first became known to me under unfavourable circumstances, and I have not liked her since." "Indeed! What were they?" "Some of Miss Deveen's jewels disappeared--were stolen; and Lettice Lane was suspected. It turned out later that she was not guilty; but I could not get over my dislike to her. We cannot help our likes and dislikes, which often come to us without rhyme or reason," acknowledged Miss Cattledon, "and I admit that I am perhaps too persistent in mine." Not a soul present, myself excepted, had ever heard about the loss of the emeralds: and somehow I felt sorry that Cattledon had spoken of it. Not that she did it in ill-nature--I give her that due. Questions were immediately poured out, and she had to give the full history. The story interested them all, Dr. Knox especially. "And who did take the jewels?" he asked. But Cattledon could not enlighten him, for Miss Deveen had not betrayed Sophie Chalk, even to her. "I don't know who it was," tartly confessed Cattledon, the point being a sore one with her. "Miss Deveen promised, I believe, to screen the thief; and did so." "Perhaps it was really Lettice Lane?" "I believe not. I am sure not. It was a lady, Miss Deveen told me that much. No; of that disgraceful act Lettice Lane was innocent: but I should never be surprised to hear of her falling into trouble. She is capable of it." "Of poisoning somebody, perhaps?" spoke Dr. Knox. "Yes," acquiesced Cattledon, grimly. How prejudiced she was against Lettice Lane! But she had given this last answer only in the same jesting spirit in which it appeared to have been put, not really meaning it.