Turquoise and Ruby by L. T. Meade
something to say to you, _cherie_," she remarked, "something ofthe greatest importance. May I accompany you in your drive?"
"But how will you get home?" asked Penelope, very much annoyed and notat all inclined to comply.
"The homeward way signifies not," responded Mademoiselle. "It is thedrive with you, most dear one, and the so sacred confidences that formthe essentials of this hour. You will not deny me, for in so doing, youwill place yourself and your sister, the most adorable Brenda, injeopardy."
"I suppose you have something unpleasant to say," said Penelope, "and ifyou have, the sooner you get it over, the better."
"Then you do permit me to enter into the carriage?"
"I cannot help myself, but I cannot take you further than to the gatesof the Castle."
"That will be time sufficient. But we will desire--ah! I will myselfspeak to him."
Mademoiselle entered the wagonette, and stepping up to the coachman,asked him to drive slowly. She did this in such a very insinuatingmanner that he felt he could do all in the world to oblige her, andaccordingly, let his horses drop into a walk. This the animals were notdisinclined to do on so hot an evening.
"Now," said Penelope, absolutely unsuspicious, and turning her fairface--which owing to her recent happiness, was really becoming quitegood-looking--in the direction of her governess. "What have you to say,Mademoiselle?"
"This, _mon enfant_. I will tell it to you briefly. You know the storyof the _petites_ Hungerfords--the little one called Nellie, that_enfant_ who suffered with a suffering so severe for the loss of herinestimable trinket--the bangle of the purest gold set with a turquoisemost exquisite."
"Yes, yes," exclaimed Penelope, "I know all about it. The bangle waslost; has it been found?"
"Softly--_cherie_--I am coming to that. It was lost, was it not, on thevery day of the _grande fete_ at Hazlitt Chase?"
"Yes," said Penelope, "I believe Mrs Hungerford thinks she lost it inthe railway carriage in which she came to the Chase."
"_Precisement_: you have the _histoire_ in all its accuracy," answeredMademoiselle. "And there was, _mon enfant_, was there not, anannouncement of the loss in the newspapers, the so great newspapers ofLondon, and the _petits journaux_ of the smaller towns? And was therenot that announcement with the reward attached even inserted, for thesake of the more safety, in the _journal_ here--the _petit journal_ ofMarshlands-on-the-Sea?"
"I daresay you are right," said Penelope, "but I really am not speciallyinterested, nor have I followed what the Hungerfords have done."
"Ah! _ma chere_--you say you are not interested once. But that willpass. That state of your mind will quickly arrive when you will beinterested; for there is much to concern you in this matter. Behold,_mon enfant_, what I, your French governess, have discovered."
Mademoiselle thrust her hand into her pocket, took out a soft, cambrichandkerchief, unfolded it, and revealed the missing bangle.
"See!" she exclaimed. "Behold for yourself--I would convince myself, byvisiting you at the beautiful Castle yesterday, and I remarked thebangle on the leetle Pauline's slender wrist. I took a note of the fineengraving, and the pattern of it. Is not this _precisement_ the same!See for yourself," she added.
"Why, it is--it must be!" exclaimed Penelope. "So it is found out; didyou discover it? How delighted Nellie will be! Are you coming up tothe Castle to give it back to her to-night and to claim the reward? Iknow it will be given to you at once. Poor, dear little Nellie--shewill be pleased!"
"Ah--_ma chere_!" said the French governess, "I act not so--I have notthe heart so cruel!"
"But what do you mean?" asked Penelope, in great astonishment.
"You must listen to the _histoire_ that I will tell to you. You mustclearly first understand that this is the identical lost bangle--thebangle made of the eighteen carat gold--with the delicate engraving andthe turquoise of the colour so pure, and of the form so rare and thesize so marvellous. It is the identical one."
"It certainly seems like it," said Penelope.
"It _is_ the same--rest assured."
As Mademoiselle spoke, she folded up the bangle and transferred it toher pocket.
"I have something to say to you, _chere enfant_."
"What do you mean? Why don't you give me the bangle to take to littleNellie? I don't understand you."
"_Ayez patience_--you soon will be enlightened." Mademoiselle bentclose to Penelope; her voice dropped to a whisper. "They shall hear usnot," she said, "those men on the box. We can talk freely. Shall Itell you how I found it? I had my so true suspicions, and I followedthem up. Now listen."
With this preamble, Mademoiselle poured into poor Penelope's ears thestory of Fanchon and the marvellous bangle she wore, of Nina, and herwalk abroad with Mademoiselle wearing the said bangle on her wrist, ofBrenda's reprehensible doings when she took Fanchon out night afternight, and, lastly, of the very clever way in which she, Mademoiselle,had managed to substitute the worthless bangle for the real one.
"I talk not of myself as lofty in this matter," was her final remark."I am the poor governess who have here all to earn; but I am not so badas that _mechante_--your sister. There is no doubt that on the day ofthe _grande fete_ at Hazlitt Chase she found the bangle and that shewould keep it for her own purposes. It was doubtless not lost in anyrailway carriage, nor was there any official or traveller to blame. Shewas the one who put that idea into your head, was she not?"
Penelope did not utter a word.
"There is circumstantial evidence the most grave against your sister,"said Mademoiselle, in conclusion, "but I try her not by my judgment; Ihave mercy upon her, and bring the case to you; I lay it at your feet.What will you do for the sister--the only sister that you possess? Youmost assuredly will not allow her to be put into prison. What will youdo?"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
DO THE RIGHT THING.
Penelope was quite silent, not replying by a single word toMademoiselle's insinuations until they reached the gates of CastleBeverley. Then she said in a quiet voice:
"You have told me something most terrible, and of course--I will do--Iwill do something--"
"But you will not expose that _pauvre_ sister--you will not ruin her forall her life; and she so young and so fair."
"Please, Mademoiselle, promise me something," said Penelope. "You havetold me the story, and I am obliged to you. I will let you know what Imyself mean to do to-morrow morning."
"But that will be far too late, _mon enfant_; for remember, I have foundthe missing bangle, and for this so great discovery there is a rewardoffered, and that reward, although _tres petite_, is nevertheless ofconsequence to one so poor as myself. I will claim that reward; but Iwant to claim more. If I keep this thing dark--quite dark, I claim abig reward."
"What?" asked Penelope.
Her whole tone changed. The coachman, by her directions, had drawn upat the avenue gates. Penelope and Mademoiselle had both alighted.
"Drive on," said Penelope to the man. "Say that I am following."
He obeyed. When the sound of the horses' hoofs had died away, Penelopeturned again to Mademoiselle.
"You have told me the story," she said; "and now I want to know exactlywhat you do expect. You have, of course, told me the story not out ofany kindness to me or to my sister. Please don't waste your breathdenying this fact, Mademoiselle d'Etienne. You have told it, hoping toprofit by it."
"_C'est vrai_," replied the Frenchwoman. "I am of the poor; I am of theneedy; I have not the wherewithal to support the most precious life. Iam dismissed from being your teacher through no fault of mine. The wideworld--it lies around me; if I have not the money, I will starve!" Sheheld up her right hand dramatically. "Does it seem to you of thereasonable that I should starve, Mademoiselle Penelope? Why should Inot feather my own nest? I wish for the reward; but it matters not fromwhom it comes, if it come from you, your sister is saved; if it comefrom Mrs Hungerford, your sister and you--think of the positio
n, _machere_--"
"I do think of it," said Penelope.
"You will consider it yet more deeply. I give you a little time. Itell you plainly that I want from you what you have already done foryour sister. I know that you did collect from your school friends--those maidens so rich, so distinguished--the money--a great sum. Idemand that you make a collection again, and that you give it to me.Twenty pound is my price; give me twenty sovereigns of the gold, and noperson know notting of the lost bangle. If you will not--I tell what Iknow."
"Mademoiselle, do you think, do you really think that I am made
"But how will you get home?" asked Penelope, very much annoyed and notat all inclined to comply.
"The homeward way signifies not," responded Mademoiselle. "It is thedrive with you, most dear one, and the so sacred confidences that formthe essentials of this hour. You will not deny me, for in so doing, youwill place yourself and your sister, the most adorable Brenda, injeopardy."
"I suppose you have something unpleasant to say," said Penelope, "and ifyou have, the sooner you get it over, the better."
"Then you do permit me to enter into the carriage?"
"I cannot help myself, but I cannot take you further than to the gatesof the Castle."
"That will be time sufficient. But we will desire--ah! I will myselfspeak to him."
Mademoiselle entered the wagonette, and stepping up to the coachman,asked him to drive slowly. She did this in such a very insinuatingmanner that he felt he could do all in the world to oblige her, andaccordingly, let his horses drop into a walk. This the animals were notdisinclined to do on so hot an evening.
"Now," said Penelope, absolutely unsuspicious, and turning her fairface--which owing to her recent happiness, was really becoming quitegood-looking--in the direction of her governess. "What have you to say,Mademoiselle?"
"This, _mon enfant_. I will tell it to you briefly. You know the storyof the _petites_ Hungerfords--the little one called Nellie, that_enfant_ who suffered with a suffering so severe for the loss of herinestimable trinket--the bangle of the purest gold set with a turquoisemost exquisite."
"Yes, yes," exclaimed Penelope, "I know all about it. The bangle waslost; has it been found?"
"Softly--_cherie_--I am coming to that. It was lost, was it not, on thevery day of the _grande fete_ at Hazlitt Chase?"
"Yes," said Penelope, "I believe Mrs Hungerford thinks she lost it inthe railway carriage in which she came to the Chase."
"_Precisement_: you have the _histoire_ in all its accuracy," answeredMademoiselle. "And there was, _mon enfant_, was there not, anannouncement of the loss in the newspapers, the so great newspapers ofLondon, and the _petits journaux_ of the smaller towns? And was therenot that announcement with the reward attached even inserted, for thesake of the more safety, in the _journal_ here--the _petit journal_ ofMarshlands-on-the-Sea?"
"I daresay you are right," said Penelope, "but I really am not speciallyinterested, nor have I followed what the Hungerfords have done."
"Ah! _ma chere_--you say you are not interested once. But that willpass. That state of your mind will quickly arrive when you will beinterested; for there is much to concern you in this matter. Behold,_mon enfant_, what I, your French governess, have discovered."
Mademoiselle thrust her hand into her pocket, took out a soft, cambrichandkerchief, unfolded it, and revealed the missing bangle.
"See!" she exclaimed. "Behold for yourself--I would convince myself, byvisiting you at the beautiful Castle yesterday, and I remarked thebangle on the leetle Pauline's slender wrist. I took a note of the fineengraving, and the pattern of it. Is not this _precisement_ the same!See for yourself," she added.
"Why, it is--it must be!" exclaimed Penelope. "So it is found out; didyou discover it? How delighted Nellie will be! Are you coming up tothe Castle to give it back to her to-night and to claim the reward? Iknow it will be given to you at once. Poor, dear little Nellie--shewill be pleased!"
"Ah--_ma chere_!" said the French governess, "I act not so--I have notthe heart so cruel!"
"But what do you mean?" asked Penelope, in great astonishment.
"You must listen to the _histoire_ that I will tell to you. You mustclearly first understand that this is the identical lost bangle--thebangle made of the eighteen carat gold--with the delicate engraving andthe turquoise of the colour so pure, and of the form so rare and thesize so marvellous. It is the identical one."
"It certainly seems like it," said Penelope.
"It _is_ the same--rest assured."
As Mademoiselle spoke, she folded up the bangle and transferred it toher pocket.
"I have something to say to you, _chere enfant_."
"What do you mean? Why don't you give me the bangle to take to littleNellie? I don't understand you."
"_Ayez patience_--you soon will be enlightened." Mademoiselle bentclose to Penelope; her voice dropped to a whisper. "They shall hear usnot," she said, "those men on the box. We can talk freely. Shall Itell you how I found it? I had my so true suspicions, and I followedthem up. Now listen."
With this preamble, Mademoiselle poured into poor Penelope's ears thestory of Fanchon and the marvellous bangle she wore, of Nina, and herwalk abroad with Mademoiselle wearing the said bangle on her wrist, ofBrenda's reprehensible doings when she took Fanchon out night afternight, and, lastly, of the very clever way in which she, Mademoiselle,had managed to substitute the worthless bangle for the real one.
"I talk not of myself as lofty in this matter," was her final remark."I am the poor governess who have here all to earn; but I am not so badas that _mechante_--your sister. There is no doubt that on the day ofthe _grande fete_ at Hazlitt Chase she found the bangle and that shewould keep it for her own purposes. It was doubtless not lost in anyrailway carriage, nor was there any official or traveller to blame. Shewas the one who put that idea into your head, was she not?"
Penelope did not utter a word.
"There is circumstantial evidence the most grave against your sister,"said Mademoiselle, in conclusion, "but I try her not by my judgment; Ihave mercy upon her, and bring the case to you; I lay it at your feet.What will you do for the sister--the only sister that you possess? Youmost assuredly will not allow her to be put into prison. What will youdo?"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
DO THE RIGHT THING.
Penelope was quite silent, not replying by a single word toMademoiselle's insinuations until they reached the gates of CastleBeverley. Then she said in a quiet voice:
"You have told me something most terrible, and of course--I will do--Iwill do something--"
"But you will not expose that _pauvre_ sister--you will not ruin her forall her life; and she so young and so fair."
"Please, Mademoiselle, promise me something," said Penelope. "You havetold me the story, and I am obliged to you. I will let you know what Imyself mean to do to-morrow morning."
"But that will be far too late, _mon enfant_; for remember, I have foundthe missing bangle, and for this so great discovery there is a rewardoffered, and that reward, although _tres petite_, is nevertheless ofconsequence to one so poor as myself. I will claim that reward; but Iwant to claim more. If I keep this thing dark--quite dark, I claim abig reward."
"What?" asked Penelope.
Her whole tone changed. The coachman, by her directions, had drawn upat the avenue gates. Penelope and Mademoiselle had both alighted.
"Drive on," said Penelope to the man. "Say that I am following."
He obeyed. When the sound of the horses' hoofs had died away, Penelopeturned again to Mademoiselle.
"You have told me the story," she said; "and now I want to know exactlywhat you do expect. You have, of course, told me the story not out ofany kindness to me or to my sister. Please don't waste your breathdenying this fact, Mademoiselle d'Etienne. You have told it, hoping toprofit by it."
"_C'est vrai_," replied the Frenchwoman. "I am of the poor; I am of theneedy; I have not the wherewithal to support the most precious life. Iam dismissed from being your teacher through no fault of mine. The wideworld--it lies around me; if I have not the money, I will starve!" Sheheld up her right hand dramatically. "Does it seem to you of thereasonable that I should starve, Mademoiselle Penelope? Why should Inot feather my own nest? I wish for the reward; but it matters not fromwhom it comes, if it come from you, your sister is saved; if it comefrom Mrs Hungerford, your sister and you--think of the positio
"I do think of it," said Penelope.
"You will consider it yet more deeply. I give you a little time. Itell you plainly that I want from you what you have already done foryour sister. I know that you did collect from your school friends--those maidens so rich, so distinguished--the money--a great sum. Idemand that you make a collection again, and that you give it to me.Twenty pound is my price; give me twenty sovereigns of the gold, and noperson know notting of the lost bangle. If you will not--I tell what Iknow."
"Mademoiselle, do you think, do you really think that I am made