I
never took a penny from the satchel. I may be naughty, but I'm no
thief!"

Miss Roscoe shook her head sadly.

"What's the use of persisting in denying a fact that's absolutely
palpable?"

"But I didn't! Oh, I didn't!"

"It's little use arguing the matter at present, Gwen, if you take up
this stubborn attitude. If you think things over, you will see it is
much better to confess. I have probably startled you by springing the
news upon you that I was aware of your substitution of my china tea
service. When you are calmer you will be more ready to acknowledge
what you have done. Go to the little music room at the head of the
stairs--it is not in use this morning--and stay there until I come or
send for you. Reflect seriously upon what I have said, and make up
your mind to be brave enough to tell me everything."

With feet like lead, and a head that throbbed and burned, Gwen walked
upstairs. The little music room was unoccupied. It only contained a
piano, a stool, and a chair, and on the last-named piece of furniture
she sank down wearily. Her thoughts flew so rapidly through her brain
that she could scarcely regulate them. She felt as if a net had been
spread for her, and had entangled her unawares. First and foremost was
the sense that Netta had betrayed her. Netta, who had promised at all
costs to keep her secret, had basely revealed it. She saw how cleverly
her old chum had managed to whitewash herself by making a confession
and feigning penitence, and how much darker this act caused Gwen's own
share in the matter to appear by comparison. Naturally Miss Roscoe
viewed Netta as the one with the tender conscience, and Gwen as the
unrepentant sinner.

"Why didn't I tell her myself that day I meant to, and got as far as
the study?" wailed the unfortunate culprit. "Then I should have been
spared all this!"

Why, indeed? How many of us mourn over our past follies and
cowardices, bitterly regretting the wasted moment or the lost
opportunity? Gwen's fault was indeed being visited heavily upon her
shoulders. She had sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind. She felt
keen resentment against Netta. It was a dastardly trick to have played
upon her. Netta might at least have warned her that the bill was to be
sent on to Miss Roscoe--then she could have been prepared for the
worst. It was surely mere spite on the part of her friend, who, having
quarrelled with her, was anxious to find some means of annoying her.
Netta had b