"It most certainly is," said Mrs Hungerford; "and you have found it? Pardon me--I do not know your name." "Mademoiselle d'Etienne--at your service. I have had the so high privilege to teach your young daughters the elegancies of our French tongue at that select seminary, Hazlitt Chase. I know when the bangle was missing, and the sore grief it was to the _chere petite_ who had lost it. Through a series of adventures I have found it again, and I lay it on your lap. You can give it to the child for whom it was purchased." "But how did you get it?" "Ah! There I have a _histoire_ the most pathetic, the most wonderful, the most _extra-ordinaire_ to relate." "No," interrupted Penelope, suddenly, "the time has come for Brenda to speak. Brenda, tell what you know." "There's no use in concealing it," said Brenda. "I am not sorry--I mean, I'm only sorry to be found out. Mrs Hungerford, this is what happened. Do you remember driving up with me to Hazlitt Chase on the day of the prize-giving? You stepped--oh--out of the carriage, and as you did so you dropped the bangle on the ground, I saw it: I coveted it: I took it: I slipped it into my pocket. I put you off the scent by telling my sister that doubtless you had dropped it in the train. I am the thief. I await my punishment: it is prison, it it not? Very well; I have confessed. I think it is most likely that Mr Beverley is a magistrate. He can send for the police, and put me into prison. I stole the bangle: Mademoiselle found it. I am a thief, and Penelope is the sister of one. That is all." "Oh, poor girl!" said Mrs Hungerford. She rose slowly from her seat and left the room. In a few minutes she returned. She brought with her three sovereigns and three shillings. "These are for you," she said to Mademoiselle. "This is the reward offered. You have led to the discovery of the bangle--I don't want to know how--take your reward, and go." "Yes, please go at once," said Honora. There was a quality in her young voice which the Frenchwoman had never heard before, and there was such a ring of scorn in Mrs Hungerford's tone that it seemed--as Mademoiselle afterwards expressed it--"to wither even the very vitals." She took her money sulkily and, without a word, left the presence of the others, never to be seen by them again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ What followed can be easily explained. Mrs Hungerford was a good woman. Honora had learned some lessons in the higher life. Now Mrs Hungerford and Honora were certainly not going to punish Penelope, and their one earnest desire was to rescue Brenda. They left the sisters alone for a short time, and talked together. "That poor, poor, pretty girl!" said Mrs Hungerford. "Oh, of course what she did was dreadful, but we just mustn't let her go under, must we, Honora?"