Chapter V: The Accusation

THERE was a strange light of malignant triumph in Mabel's dark eyes the next morning, and Nicholas, looking at her as she sat opposite him at breakfast, noticed the expression of her face, though he would not pay her the compliment of mentioning that he saw anything unusual.

"What do you think, Nick?" said she presently. "I've lost my best diamond ring."

"You must have been awfully careless," he replied unsympathetically.

"Nothing of the kind," said Mabel shortly. "I only left it out on my toilet-table while I washed my hands before dressing for dinner yesterday, and, forgetting to put it on again, thought no more about it till this morning; but I've been hunting for it high and low since I got up, and it's not be found."

"What can have become of it?" said Nicholas, helping himself to marmalade. "It can't have really gone, you know; the servants are all honest."

"The old ones are, I daresay," rejoined Mabel; "but, to tell you the truth, Nick, I have something more than a suspicion of how my ring has gone, and of who has taken it, too."

"Dear me! Really?" said Nicholas indifferently. "Give me some more coffee, Mab, will you?"

"You don't care a little bit for my annoyance and vexation, Nick," said Mabel. "If you truly loved me, you—"

Nicholas made a gesture of angry impatience, which nipped her tirade in the bud, and she stopped short.

"I have had all that so often before, Mab," said he wearily, "that I confess I am sick of it. I'm sorry you have lost your ring—that is, if it is lost, which I doubt. But one ring more or less won't matter to you;" and he glanced somewhat contemptuously at the white hands, which were too heavily jewelled for those of a young girl.

For the rest of the meal, Mabel was silent,—"in the sulks," Nicholas called it; and he was not sorry, for her conversation provoked him nearly always nowadays, and any mood was better than a talkative one.

"Such a misfortune, auntie!" said Mabel, when she went to Mrs. Beach's room after breakfast.

The old lady was not yet up, and her eyes were very heavy as though she had slept but little.

"Indeed, Mabel?" replied Mrs. Beach; but an expression came into her kind old face which the girl must have noticed had she not been so busy thinking of that plausible lie and the false witness it was to bear.

"Yes, auntie. I have lost that beautiful ring of brilliants that was mother's. You remember it, don't you? It was on my dressing-table—of that I am confident—before I went down to dinner."

"Was it there when you went to your room for the night?" questioned Mrs. Beach, with a trembling voice.

"I never thought of it again," answered Mabel, with the glibness born of the previous narration of the story to Nicholas; "but if it had been where I left it, of course I should have seen it."

"Well, and have you looked for it this morning?" asked the old lady.

"Yes; I have hunted all over my room, in every hole and corner, but unsuccessfully. I am afraid, auntie dear, there can be little doubt that we have a thief in the house."

"Surely not, Mabel. That is a dreadful thing to say. I would rather believe anything than that."

"I do not for a moment suspect the old servants; they have been here so long, and their honesty is beyond all question."

"Whom, then, do you suspect of so wicked an action?"

"That girl you're so fond of; that Margery Grayling, whom everybody has set up and worshipped ever since she came. I always said she was no better than she should be, and here is the proof of it."

"Mabel," said the old lady, "this is a very serious charge you are making."

"Of course it is; but I am sure she is the thief. She has access to all the rooms, and is upstairs so much more now, that she might do anything."

"Mabel," said Mrs. Beach, "whatever you may think, I cannot suspect that girl. I have found her so scrupulously straightforward and truthful, so high-principled and pure-minded, that unless I had overwhelming proof of her guilt, I should not believe it."

"You shall have—" There Mabel paused, confused.

The old lady was eyeing her steadily, and somehow she did not feel quite comfortable. "What if you do find proof?" she said, somewhat constrainedly.

"Then I will reconsider my opinion of Margery."

"Well, I propose a search in her room, and if we find the ring there, will you promise to dismiss her? That is all I shall ask."

"You will not wish to prosecute, then?" said Mrs. Beach.

"No; that sort of publicity is so uncomfortable for other people," replied Mabel.

"Very well; do as you choose, Mabel," said her aunt.

But the girl wondered at the stern voice and changed manner.

Mrs. Beach rang the bell, and when it was answered by the housemaid, she said, "Send Margery Grayling to me, if Miss Raye can spare her for a few minutes."

Mabel was just going to leave the room, but her aunt said, "Don't go, Mabel. You have been laying this sin to the girl's charge; now you must accuse her to her face. It is only fair to Margery."

"You have more consideration for that shameless creature than for your own niece," said Mabel angrily.

But Mrs. Beach made no answer to this, and after a few minutes' silence, Margie entered.

"Good morning, Margery," said her mistress kindly. "Miss Mabel tells me she misses a diamond ring, and as the rest of the household have been with us so long as to be quite above suspicion, her fear is that you may perhaps have been tempted into taking it."

"I have not taken the ring," replied Margie quietly. "I am incapable of doing such a thing."

"So you say," put in Mabel spitefully; "but people who can steal, can generally lie too."

The hot, indignant blood surged into poor Margie's face, and she looked appealingly at her mistress.

"Mabel," said the old lady sternly, "I cannot have you speak thus to any one in my house. And until you have proved, to my entire satisfaction, that Margery is guilty of this crime, you will please be good enough to treat her as the innocent girl I believe her to be."

"She has befooled every one in this house except myself," cried Mabel; "but I am not so easily deceived. I demand that her room shall be searched, every possible hole and corner looked into, and I will abide by the result."

"Then if your ring be not found, do you take back your accusation?"

"I do," replied Mabel.

"And supposing some one else, and not Margery, has purloined the jewel?"

"I ask that you should dismiss, without a character, any one who is proved guilty."

"Be it so," rejoined Mrs. Beach solemnly. "I myself will superintend the search, so that it may be done with fairness."

"But meanwhile Margery must not be allowed to return to her room," said Mabel excitedly.

"Margery has no wish to return to her room until we have quite done with it," replied Mrs. Beach. "But if you are afraid, Mabel, go with Margery now, lock her door, and bring me the key."