e is another thing. I know what little
trinkets you each possess, for you showed them to me when first I came.
Have you any reason to believe, Verena, that Pauline kept one trinket
back from my knowledge?"

"Oh, no, Aunt Sophy; of course she did not. Pauline has fewer trinkets
than any of us, and she is fond of them. She is not particularly fond of
gay clothes, but she always did like shiny, ornamenty things."

"When she was ill I saw round her neck a narrow gold chain, to which a
little heart-shaped locket was attached. Do you know of such a locket, of
such a chain?"

"No."

Miss Tredgold rose to her feet.

"Verena," she said, "things must come to a climax. Pauline must be forced
to tell. For her own sake, and for the sake of others, we must find out
what is at the back of things. Until we do the air will not be cleared. I
had an idea of taking you to London for this winter, but I shall not do
so this side of Christmas at any rate. I want us all to have a good time,
a bright time, a happy time. We cannot until this mystery is explained. I
am certain, too, that Pen knows more than she will say. She always was a
curious, inquisitive child. Now, until the time of the accident Pen was
always pursuing me and giving me hints that she had something to confide.
I could not, of course, allow the little girl to tell tales, and I always
shut her up. But from the time of the accident she has altered. She is
now a child on the defensive. She watches Pauline as if she were guarding
her against something. I am not unobservant, and I cannot help seeing.
From what you tell me, your sisters Briar and Patty are also implicated.
My dear Verena, we must take steps."

"Yes," said Verena. "But what steps?"

"Let me think. It has relieved my mind to tell you even this much. You
will keep your own counsel. I will talk to you again to-morrow morning."

Verena felt very uncomfortable. Of all the Dales she was the most open,
in some ways the most innocent. She thought well of all the world. She
adored her sisters and her father, and now also her aunt, Miss Tredgold.
She was the sort of girl who would walk through life without a great deal
of sorrow or a great deal of perplexity. The right path would attract
her; the wrong would always be repellent to her. Temptation, therefore,
would not come in a severe guise to Verena Dale. She was guarded against
it by the sweetness and purity and innocence of her nature. But now for
the first time it