At last he exclaimed, in the hope of rousing his host from his apparent despondency, "And now let's have a song from the major. Give us the 'Tally Ho!' Newton." "I can't sing it to-day, gentlemen," said the major; "the fact is I am a good deal out of sorts. I have met with a misfortune, and I--" "Why, what's happened?" exclaimed the whole company. "Why," said the major, with an oath, "I've lost my famous old diamond brooch--a jewel, gentlemen, given to my father by George II.--a jewel that I valued more than all the world beside. It was the reward given to my father for a brave and gallant deed at the battle of Dettingen, and its rare intrinsic value was trifling beside that which it possessed as the evidence of my father's valor." "How did you lose it, major?" asked the doctor. "I went to my desk this morning, and found that the lock had been picked, the inside drawer broken open and the brooch taken from its box." "Who could have done it?" "I can't imagine," replied the major; "I don't think any of those niggers would have done such a thing. I've searched them all, but it's of no use, sir--no use; it's gone. But if I ever lay hands on the scoundrel, I'll flay him alive--I will, indeed, even if it should be Dick there;" and the old man gulped down a heavy draught of port, as if to drown his grief. "My theory about such crimes," said the doctor, "is that the persons committing them are always more or less insane." "Insane!" swore the major, fiercely. "If I catch the man who did this, I'll fit him for a hospital!" "We are all a little daft at times--when we are angry, in love, in extreme want, or excited by intense passion of any kind," said the doctor. "Extreme ignorance, being neglect of one's intellectual faculties, is a kind of insanity, and so is the perversion of the moral perceptions of those who are educated to a life of crime from their childhood. My theory is that punishment should be so inflicted as to restore reason, not merely to wreak vengeance." "And my theory is that every vagabond who breaks the laws ought to be flogged and imprisoned, so that he may know that society will not tolerate crime. Hang your fine-spun theories about the beggars who prey upon the community!" said the major, rising and kicking back his chair ill-naturedly. The doctor had nothing more to say, and the company withdrew to the parlor. There, gathered around the great fireplace, sat Mrs. Newton, her daughters--both children--Mary Engle, their tutor, Mrs. Willitts and the wives of the gentlemen who had come from the dinner-table. [Illustration] They rose as the men entered the room, and greeted them cordially. Tom Willitts went quickly to Mary's side, and while the others engaged in lively conversation he took her hand gently and, as was their privilege, they walked slowly up the room and sat by the window alone, Mary's face brightening as she thanked Tom heartily for the beautiful present he had sent her the day before.