“The child does not know whose portrait it contains,—­that she confesses,” said Mademoiselle Duroc.  “And there is the money—­the gold piece.”

Perplexed as she was, Mrs. Patterson’s faith was unshaken in the child who had always seemed so straightforward and honorable.  Miss Drayton wanted to believe in Anne, but she remembered the uncle whose story they had not told Mademoiselle; after all, they knew little of the child; nothing of her family, except that her uncle had used his employer’s money and had fled from justice.  Was the taint of dishonesty in her blood?  For all her candid appearance, Anne had been keeping a secret.  But perhaps there was some explanation which she would make to her friends, though she had withheld it from Mademoiselle Duroc.

Anne was summoned and came tripping into the room.  Her face clouded when she saw the jewels in Mademoiselle Duroc’s hand and the grave, questioning faces of her friends.

“Don’t ask me about those, please, dear Mrs. Patterson,” she entreated.  “I can’t tell you anything now.  I’ll tell you all about it then.”

“Then? when?” asked Miss Drayton.

“Wh-when we get to Nantes—­if ever we do go there,” sobbed Anne.

“What nonsense is this, Anne?” inquired Miss Drayton.  “Of course you must explain the matter.  Did you have these things on shipboard?”

“No, Miss Drayton.”

“Where did you get them?”

The child did not answer.

“Whose are these things, Anne?” asked Miss Drayton, more sternly.

“Mine, mine, mine!” cried Anne.  “Indeed, I’ll tell you all about them when we get to Nantes.”

“Anne!  What do you mean?  Nantes!  What has Nantes to do with it?  You are making my sister ill.  See how pale she is!—­Emily, dear Emily, don’t look so troubled.  If only I had taken the matter up with you alone, Mademoiselle Duroc!”

“I wish I could tell.  I do wish I could,” moaned Anne.

Entreaty and command were in vain.

“We shall have to let the matter rest for the present,” said Miss Drayton, at last.  “It has overtaxed my sister’s strength.”

“Never mind me,” protested Mrs. Patterson.  “I am troubled only for the child’s sake.  Oh, there must be some reasonable, right explanation of it all!”

“I hope so,” said Miss Drayton, hopelessly.

Mademoiselle Duroc had taken no part in the conversation with Anne.  Now she spoke:  “Permit me to suggest that I prefer not to retain charge of a pupil that has the secrets and mysteries.  Will madame be so good—­”

“No, no, Mademoiselle Duroc!” interrupted Miss Drayton.  “You will—­you must—­do us the favor to keep the child for the present, until my sister is stronger—­until we are able to make other arrangements.”

There was a pause.  Then Mademoiselle said inquiringly, “These jewels, you will take charge of them?”

“No, oh, no!” said Miss Drayton, hastily.  “Something may turn up—­there may be some claimant—­but she insists they are hers.—­Oh, dear! oh, dear!—­We will come back, Mademoiselle, when my sister is better and we will discuss the matter again.”