"Nay, it was fair hair. There was a light in the room, so as she comes
back through the window I sees her as plain as I sees you now. I knows
her in a minute. It was the young lady as every Sunday morning pesters
my life out of me to cut her a rose for her buttonhole: Miss Taylor, I
think she's called."
"Flossie!" exclaimed Janie. "I know she always begs for roses."
"Then it was Flossie!" said Lettice. "I had an uneasy feeling in the
back of my mind all the time that it was she--it looked like her
figure. It seemed too bad to suspect her, though, when I had absolutely
no proof."
"There can be little doubt about it now."
"Shall we go straight to Miss Maitland, at once?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure if it wouldn't be better to ask Flossie
herself about it. She may be able to explain it; and, at any rate, I
think we ought to warn her before we say anything, and then we shan't
seem to have told tales behind her back."
"She doesn't deserve any consideration," grumbled Lettice.
Janie's conscience, however, required her to be scrupulously fair. She
could not bear to take an advantage, even of one who must be shielding
herself at the expense of another.
"We'll give her a chance," she decided emphatically.
The next step evidently was to search for Flossie. She was not in the
garden, but after a diligent quest through the house they eventually
found her in her own cubicle, engaged in the meritorious occupation of
tidying her drawers. It was an unpleasant task for the two girls to
voice their suspicions, but one that nevertheless had to be done.
Somewhat to their surprise, Flossie sat down on the edge of her bed,
and burst out crying.
"Oh, I knew it would come! I knew it would!" she sobbed. "What am I to
do? Oh, I've been so wretched all day! I believe I'm quite glad it has
come out at last."
"Flossie, did you take that sovereign?" asked Janie.
"Yes--no--at least--yes! Only, I didn't know I was taking it!" groaned
Flossie, trying in vain to find her handkerchief, and mopping her eyes
in desperation with a corner of the sheet instead.
"What do you mean?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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