He rose from his chair with a troubled look on his face. Although he now guessed what the surprise was which was in store for him, and although he had spent the night and morning in lamenting his loss, instinct told him that there was something to learn which he would rather not have known, in connection with the recovery of his treasure. “What is it?” he asked hoarsely, as he touched the roll, and looked at her. “I believe you know what it is,” replied she, “but if not, I’ll show you.” Her hands were wet and trembling, for all her affectation of gaiety and unconcern, and it was with difficulty she performed the simple task of tearing the paper from the roll, and exhibiting its contents to her husband. “There!” she said, rather tremulously, as she unrolled it, “Your picture! Back again, and quite safe and unharmed, I believe.” But he looked at her with a frown. “What does it mean?” he said hoarsely. “Who brought it back? Where does it come from?” She glanced at him quickly. He was staring at the roll with a look of intense distress in his grave eyes. She drew her breath quickly, and glanced at him once more anxiously as she laughed, and said: “I wish you would just take your luck, Bertie, without asking any questions.” “How can I? I must know.” “You’ll be sorry, and--and you’ll be angry,” faltered she, her colour coming and going. “Never mind. I think you can trust me to be just.” She suddenly made a spring at him, and held his arms, looking up with a bewitching air of entreaty into his face. “Suppose some one you knew, and liked, and trusted, should have fallen a victim to a temptation too strong, under pressure of friends who wanted help badly. What then?” “Well, who is it?” His voice was stern, almost hard. Lady Sarah, frightened, began to weep. “I can’t tell you,” she said quickly, “while you look like that. I daren’t.” He patted her shoulder kindly. “Nonsense,” he said. “You can trust me to be just.” “I don’t ask you to be just, I want you to be merciful. I want you to promise that you will accept this act of restitution without any questions, and that you will be satisfied not to speak of the matter again. The thief has repented, as you see, and has proved repentance.” “I must know who it is,” said Sir Robert, with more sternness than he had ever used to his wife before. “Yes, if you will promise to forgive and--forget.” “I promise,” said Sir Robert after a pause. He was looking pale and anxious in his turn, as he sat down, after placing a chair for his wife, and folding his hands, kept his head bent, as he waited for her promised revelation. “What would you say if you were to learn that it was a lady in your employment, one who has proved herself very useful, very devoted, who yielded to a temptation she couldn’t resist?” said she. Sir Robert looked up sharply. “I should say,” said he quietly, “that it wasn’t true.” Lady Sarah bit her lip, disconcerted.