"I think we had better not talk about that just now," said Lady Carleton; and then, with a sudden inspiration and effort, she added: "Florence, perhaps you don't know that it was partly my fault that those jewels were lost, that I helped to put some one in the way of temptation. It was because I was so silly, that I only thought of what you call `a bit of fun.' That is why I was so glad you were able to prevent the mischief you started, and why I taught Miss Lily to say those prayers. The good God has heard them. You see, I shall be very glad if you _are_ good." Lady Carleton had a very simple manner, but Florence looked up at her with the first sense of real respect--she had begun to have real likings--that she had ever known. "I _will_ try," she said softly, with her bold eyes cast down; and Lady Carleton took her by the hand and led her up to the nursery. An hour or two later, when Florence, whose reception by the nurse had not been particularly cordial, was sitting demurely in the nursery window, putting her best needlework, such as it was, into Miss Lily's new pinafore, a note was brought to Lady Carleton. "The gentleman was waiting." Lady Carleton had thought of nothing but the half-heard story of the returned travellers, of the hint about the jewels, and of the hope that the consequences of her girlish folly might be undone at last. The note ran thus:-- "Ashcroft: August 5th. "Dear Lady, Carleton,--My eldest son has returned from abroad. He asks your permission for a short interview, either with yourself or with Sir Philip Carleton, concerning the circumstances under which he left England. "I remain sincerely yours,-- "George Cunningham." Lady Carleton handed the note to her husband, to whom she had already related Florence's story. "You will see him?" said Sir Philip. "Ask the gentleman to walk in." It was a very uncomfortable moment both for Lady Carleton and for Alwyn Cunningham, who had been boy and girl together, and now hardly knew how to meet; but Sir Philip carried it off by ordinary greetings as to the son of a neighbour, whose acquaintance he was ready to make, and Alwyn hardly waited a moment before he entered on the matter in hand. He took out the jewel that he had shown to Edgar in the wood and laid it on the table. "I can at least return to you this piece of your family property, Lady Carleton," he said. "My mother's jewel, the ruby bird!" faltered Lady Carleton, hardly knowing what this implied. "And," said Alwyn, "I will ask Sir Philip Carleton to be good enough to read these papers." These contained the confession of Lennox, already alluded to by Harry Whittaker to his aunt, and the attestations of it, of which he had shown copies to the Warrens.