“I’m all right,” she argued.  “Tell me about it, please!”

“To begin with,” he smiled, “these people are no relatives of yours.”

Polly’s eyes rounded with amazement.

“And Aunt Jane is n’t my aunt at all?”

“Not the least mite of an aunt,” he laughed.  “It was a hard thing for her to admit; but she had to do it.”

“You have seen her?” queried Polly.

“Mr. Brewster and I were there this forenoon.  It seems that she lived next door to you at the time your father died, and, according to her own statement, she gave you mother a great deal of assistance at that time.  It is easy to see how she made your mother feel under obligations to her, and the rest came about as it naturally might with such a woman.  When she saw her chance for gain she improved it.  She has defrauded you out of household goods and money; but Jack thinks we should hardly make anything by taking the matter into court.  There is nearly two thousand dollars still to your credit in the bank, and that shall stay there till you are of age.  She was allowed only a certain sum per week for your support—­the rest she could not touch; but she did what she pleased, it seems, with the money received for furniture and so on.  She has no property that we can get hold of, except the things which belonged to your mother.  Those we can take, if you will tell me what they are.”

“Oh!  Can I have mamma’s little rosewood work-table!  I saw it there the other day.”

The Doctor was busy with pad and pencil.

“The sooner we get them the better, so think hard now, and I’ll note them down.”

“There’s a good deal of china, and some nice glass dishes, and the silver spoons and forks—­I could tell which they were if I could see them.”

“You are going to pick them out, with Mr. Brewster and me.”

“I’m going there?” Polly cried.

Dr. Dudley nodded.  “You’re not afraid?” He smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, no, not with you!” she replied.  “There’s two trunks,” she went on, “with some of mamma’s clothes in.  A good many are worn out—­she wore ’em, and make ’em over for the girls and me.  Then there are all our books, and three or four chairs, and a lovely clock—­oh, and a great pile of mamma’s music, with some pieces that she wrote herself!”

The list was longer than Dr. Dudley had expected.  When Polly could think of nothing more, he called up the lawyer by telephone, making an appointment to meet him.  Shortly afterwards he put Polly in the auto, and they started for Mrs. Bean’s.

On the way the little girl thought of her precious locket.

“We shall get it if we can,” the Doctor told her.  “Mrs. Bean appears to be honest about that.  She believes the boy has it; but he professes innocence.  I fancy she will keep him out of our way if possible.”

They took the lawyer in at his office, and Polly finished her ride sitting on his knee.