"Don't, dear! Listen. It is quite safe. But I haven't got it. I promise
you solemnly I will get it back. You'll believe me, won't you? You know
I would not deceive you. And you won't be frightened? No one had
anything to do with taking it but ourselves. I am going to tell you just
how it happened--"

"Don't bother. I'll tell her myself."

In the doorway stood Mrs. Coombe, her eyes venomous with the anger of
tortured nerves. Her high voice trembled on the verge of hysteria, yet
she tried to speak with her usual mocking lightness.

"There is no need to make a mystery of the thing, I'm sure. I took the
ring because I was hard up--needed money at once. You understand what
that means, I suppose, Amy? You never wore the ring, nor would you allow
me to wear it. It was simply wasted lying in that silly box. My own
jewelry is of much less value. Besides, I use it. One would have thought
that you would be glad to assist in some way with the--er--household
expenses. In any case, no such fuss is necessary, and I should advise
you," her voice grew suddenly cold and menacing, "not to scream like
that again. A few more such shrieks and--people will begin to wonder."
Without so much as a glance at Esther she passed on to her own room.

"Don't mind her!" The indignant girl tried to draw the trembling woman
close. But Aunt Amy cowered away. Five minutes had undone the work of
weeks. All the doctor's carefully laid foundations were crumbling.
Esther, wrung with pity and remorse, stroked the grey hair in silence.
She expected an outbreak of childish tears, but it did not come. Rather,
the shivering grew less and presently Aunt Amy raised her head.

"It was she--Mary--who took it?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes. But remember I have promised to get it back."

Aunt Amy looked at her blankly. She did not seem to hear.

"I never guessed it was Mary. Never! But now I know. I'll never be
fooled again."

"Know what?" asked Esther uneasily. There was a look in Aunt Amy's eyes
which she disliked, a sly, cool look--more nearly mad than any look she
had ever surprised there. "Tell me what it is that you know," she
repeated coaxingly.

But Aunt Amy would not tell. It was just as well, she thought, that
Esther should not know that at last, after many years, she had found out
the agent employed by "they" for her undoing. Ah, if she had only found
out sooner. The ruby ring might still be shining in its box. But of
course "they" knew that sh