"We know _now_," said Patty, "though we didn't know a few mouths ago, that these are things that could only belong to a lady who had been rich once." "Yes," said Elizabeth. "But there is another point to be considered. Elizabeth Leigh ran away with her husband secretly and in haste, and under circumstances that make it seem _most_ unlikely that she should have hampered herself and him with luggage, or bestowed a thought on such trifles as fans and finery." The younger sisters were a little daunted for a moment by this view of the case. Then Eleanor spoke up. "How you do love to throw cold water on everything!" she complained, pettishly. "Why shouldn't she think of her pretty things? I'm sure if I were going to run away--no matter under what circumstances--I should take all _mine_, if I had half an hour to pack them up. So would you. At least, I don't know about you--but Patty would. Wouldn't you, Patty?" "Well," said Patty, thoughtfully, sitting back on her heels and folding her hands in her lap, "I really think I should, Elizabeth. If you come to think of it, it is the heroines of novels who do those things. They throw away lovers, and husbands, and fortunes, and everything else, on the slightest provocation; it is a matter of course--it is the correct thing in novels. But in real life girls are fond of all nice things--at least, that is my experience--and they don't feel like throwing them away. Girls in novels would never let Mrs. Duff-Scott give them gowns and bonnets, for instance--they would be too proud; and they would burn a bureau any day rather than rummage in it for a title to money that a nice man, whom they cared for, was in possession of. Don't tell me. You are thinking of the heroines of fiction, Elizabeth, and not of Elizabeth Leigh. _She_, I agree with Nelly--however much she might have been troubled and bothered--did not leave her little treasures for the servants to pawn. Either she took them with her, or someone able to keep her destination a secret sent them after her." "Well, well," said Elizabeth, who had got out her mother's jewellery and was gazing fondly at the miniature in the pearl-edged locket, "we shall soon know. Get out the books and music, dear."