silent for a moment. Then she looked up in her frank way.

"I don't really know anything," she said.

"But you have a suspicion."

"I'm not even sure that I have."

"Maggie dear, I would far rather never recover the miniature than get
Basil into trouble. My conviction is that he is concealing some
knowledge which has come to him for the sake of another. He is making
a mistake, of course, but his motives are good. If you can help him,
Maggie, if you have any clew by which we can get at the real truth,
use it, and quickly, dear child."

Marjorie put on that little important air which sometimes made her
brothers and sisters call her goody-goody.

"It seems a pity that I should be going away to-day," she said.

"Oh, you must not be disappointed, Maggie," said her governess. "You
don't often get a treat, and you have been so looking forward to
spending a few days with Lilias Russell."

"I do love Lily," replied Marjorie. "Only Ermengarde said----" then
she stopped.

"What is it, dear?"

"I don't think I'll tell, Miss Nelson, please. I'm afraid, when Ermie
said it, she was feeling awfully disappointed. I'll try to forget it.
Now, Miss Nelson, what shall I do?"

"Put your wise little brains to work. Try to think how you can clear
Basil from suspicion without doing anything shabby or underhand. I
know your father is fearfully hurt with him. Much more hurt with him
than with Ermengarde, for he has always had such a very high opinion
of Basil. Now run away, Maggie, dear, and do your best; but remember I
do not wish you to give up your visit. I called you early on purpose
that you should have time to think matters over."

Miss Nelson kissed Marjorie, who went solemnly back to her own room.

The sun was now streaming in through the closed blinds, and some of
his rays fell across the white bed where Ermengarde lay. The little
girl was still fast asleep; all her long hair was tossed over her
pillow, and one hand shaded her cheek. Ermengarde was a very pretty
girl, and she looked lovely now in the innocent sweet sleep which
visits even naughty children.

Marjorie went and stood at the foot of the bed.

"Poor Ermie," she said to herself, "I don't want to think that she
could be mean, and yet--and yet--she was in Miss Nelson's room the day
the miniature was stolen, and she did seem in a desperate state of
trouble that time when she asked me to make an excuse for her to go
back to the house. And then what funny words S