"No doubt," said Josiah, with a sneer, my very charitable relation believes I have stolen these diamonds!" "No, no, Josiah," I replied, "I know it can all be explained." passage; all was silent. Presently, the footsteps returned down the passage to the room where they were all assembled. There was a sudden, loud shriek-Lucy's voice. I sank down, clinging to the ban I don't know what time had elapsed when one of the servants rushed up, breathless. "It shall be explained," said he, sullen-isters. ly. "I'll go to town instantly, and have the best man from Bow street to examine into the affair." My aunt readily assented to this, and Josiah left the room. She then ordered Lucy to go down-stairs, telling her she would be strictly watched. From the moment my aunt and Mr. Chapman began to discredit my evidence about Josiah, the girl's boldness had ebbed away, and utter despair again took possession of her. She begged and prayed most piteously not to be sent down-stairs; they might lock her up where they liked, but she dare not face the other servants. My aunt, without noticing me in the slightest degree, left the room with Mr. Chapman. Lucy dragged herself with effort to where I was sitting. "O miss!" said she. "I know you don't think me guilty. But do say so; the words would do me good; it's so terrible to bear!" I assured her that I fully believed her innocent. "Ah!" she continued, "I know I've got you into trouble, telling, as I did, about Mr. Josiah. Any other way, they might have burnt me before I'd have told it; but to be accused of stealing those diamonds -I could not hold my tongue." I gave the poor girl what comfort I could, and then hurried away to my own room, for I was afraid to encounter my aunt. I heard what was going on from one of the servants, who came up to me from time to time. Josiah returned from London after an absence of about three hours; a Bow street officer was to follow him immediately. From my bedroom window I saw a strange, forbidding-looking man with a slow, heavy step, come up the house-walk from the common. He was admitted into the house. I listened anxiously over the staircase to hear what was going on below. I heard them all-my aunt, Mr. Chapman, and the man go to the room where I knew Lucy was. The man's heavy tramp went pit-pat with my heart. I felt perfectly ill with suspense. Then I heard the man's footsteps going towards my aunt's boudoir, tramp, tramp, down the "Thank God! they're found!" she exclaimed. "The diamonds ?" 66 Yes, miss; they were all the time in the safe." "Impossible!" I replied. "I searched it myself;" and I hurried down-stairs to learn the truth. My aunt, Josiah, Mr. Chapman, and Lucy were in the room; the officer had been sent down-stairs. "The diamonds were in the safe after all," said my aunt to me the moment I entered. "The officer, on pulling the drawer right out, found them in the space behind the back of the drawer and the safe. He says, that as the drawer was crammed full, the case must have got hitched against the cover of the drawer, and when the drawer was pulled out, the case fell behind it, and so got pushed back by the drawer." I could see vindictive triumph in Josiah's eyes. "And now," said my aunt, "I have got to perform an act of justice towards Lucy. She has been wrongfully accused of stealing those diamonds. Under ordinary circumstances, I should have felt that no reparation which I could make would be too great; but she met the accusation with an infamous story—a story which, no doubt, she had originally trumped up for the purpose of gaining the good-will and assistance of a person who should have been above listening to such wicked insinuations." My aunt's words were positive torture in my ears. "However," continued my aunt, "if Lucy will sign a paper, declaring that story utterly false, I will, on my part, buy her brother off from the army, give her a clear year's wages, and, as far as I dare in justice, not concealing what has occurred, give her such a character as may gain her a respectable place. Mr. Chapman will draw out the statement." There was a dead silence while Mr. Chapman was writing; I raised my eyes to look at Lucy. The girl was evidently so entirely unhinged by what had occurred, that she seemed quite unconscious that the matter on hand concerned her. "Now, Lucy," said Mr. Chapman briskly, "sign this."" "Read it to her first," exclaimed my aunt. "But it is not a lie, sir, indeed," said Lucy faintly, interrupting Mr. Chapman as he read. Mr. Chapman paid no attention to her, but read on to the end. "Now," said he, "we won't argue the question of it's being a lie or not; that would be an utter loss of time, for every person of common-sense must be convinced that it is. If you sign this paper, you obtain the advantages your mistress has offered; if you refuse, you leave this house a beggar, without a character. Choose;" and he offered her a pen. "Lucy!" I cried involuntarily. The girl turned and looked at me with unmeaning gaze. "Silence!" said my aunt to me in a severe tone; "don't you interfere with her." Mr. Chapman was whispering to Lucy. From what I overheard, it was evident that he merely attributed her hesitation to an obstinate persistence in her story. But I could not keep silence. I had been forced to speak against Josiah upon strong conviction. I should never have felt convinced of my mistake if I thought that the girl had signed the paper from mercenary motives. "Lucy," said I, "listen to me. The question is, was Mr. Josiah with you in the garden that evening before the dinner, or not? They say it was your interest once to declare he was; it is now clearly your interest to deny it. Lay aside this wretched question of interest, and speak the truth. You will have to speak the truth one day. It is better to speak it now, though it makes you a beggar, than speak it hereafter with shame and remorse." I could see how agitated the girl was; pain of irresolution flushed her face; she abruptly left Mr. Chapman and came to my side. "I won't sign it!" she exclaimed. "I did speak the truth." My aunt was the first to recover from the surprise which my conduct created. She rang the bell; the butler entered. "Pay that girl," said she, "a month's wages, and turn her out of the house. Mind, she leaves this house not a thief, but a liar." My courage had ebbed away with the words I had addressed to Lucy; I sank into a chair overwhelmed with an intense feeling of moral exhaustion; then my aunt, in the bitterest words, upbraided me for the opinion I persisted in entertaining about Josiah. She would insist upon it, notwithstanding all my assurances, that I had eagerly caught, at the girl's story, in the hopes of undermining Josiah's character; but the scheme had failed-the blow had fallen on my head. She called upon Mr. Chapman to witness her words: "Not one penny of her fortune should be mine; henceforth, I should work for my bread as a governess, and cease to be an inmate of her house." Suddenly recollecting herself, she drew Mr. Huntly's letter from her pocket. "There," said she, "the sooner you answer that, the better. Now! this evening! go, and say you are a beggar, and see if he will care for you." I was very angry - indignant at her cruel challenge. I spoke at random. "I will go," said I, and I left the room. I was far too excited to think. I put on my bonnet, hurried down-stairs, and shut the hall-door after me. Whither?-to Mrs. Huntly's-but-? I began to think as I turned on the door step, and looked forth on the common: the old home-scene, so familiar, years and years I had looked out upon it from my bed-room window. The sun was beginning to set as I lingered on the door-step; the whole scene was bright and warm, but it chilled me through and through. The feeling of home was gone-I felt I was face to face with the cold hard world. Then doubt and desolation came upon me. If my aunt had been alone, I would have returned, and swallowed my words, and prayed on my knees to be taken back; but I thought of Josiah's triumph-I dare not face that; and I turned away, and left the house. I shall never forget the cruel doubts which beset me in that short walk to Mrs. Huntly's, the sad possibilities which thronged my brain; not that I doubted | tened to the house; the doctor's carriage of his love, but I knew he was not rich; he might have looked for something on my part to enable us to marry. At the very least, I was throwing myself on his generosity, not only accepting, but seizing eagerly at his offer, as a drowning wretch clutches at a straw. Then my circumstances were so totally changed since the offer was made, that my pride revolted at the idea of forcing him, out of honor, to take me as his wife. The idea of going to Mrs. Huntly's, which, on the spur of the moment, had appeared perfectly natural and proper, began to seem nothing short of utter boldness and impudence. I am sure I must have given it up, and gone back humbly to my aunt's, had heMr. Huntly not overtaken me on the common; he only bowed, and would have passed on, (he said afterwards he thought he had no right to address me till his letter was answered.) I spoke his name only very low, but he caught it, and turned. I felt terribly frightened, and could scarcely speak, but this was only at first; a few words from him, and doubt was over, and he took me home to his mother. - Mrs. Huntly was very kind to me; she called me from the very first her daughter, listening with a mother's sympathy to all I had to say. I was to call their house my home; and in a very short time it really was my own home. We were married as speedily as arrangements would permit. I did all in my power to obtain my aunt's forgiveness, but in vain. The day after I was at Mrs. Huntly's, my wardrobe, and every thing I possessed, were sent to me, but no letter or message; and though I wrote very often, I received no reply. This was the only drawback to my happiness. Though Mr. Huntly's income was small, it was quite sufficient for every comfort. He was so thoughtfully kind: he bought Lucy's brother out of the army, and Lucy, poor girl, Mrs. Huntly took at once into her service, and she never left us till she went away to be married many years afterwards. I had been married three months, and I had never even chanced to meet my aunt in my walks, but I heard of her from time to time from mutual friends. One day, intelligence was brought me that she was seriously ill-a paralytic seizure. In the greatest anxiety, I has was at the door. I asked how my aunt was. The butler said she was very ill. Could I see her? The man said he had strict orders to refuse me admittance. "Whose orders?" I inquired. "Mr. Josiah's," was the reply. I was reflecting upon what I had better do, when the doctor came down-stairs. He had always been a very kind friend of mine. "I'm so glad you are here," said he; "I think it might do your aunt good; she has mentioned your name several times." He begged to have a few words with me in the dining-room. "But I'm refused admittance.” "Mr. Josiah's orders, sir," said the butler, puzzled what to do. "I'll be responsible," replied the doctor, and I followed him into the dining-room. The doctor did not disguise from me that it was a most serious attack. It was agreed that I should enter my aunt's room as if nothing had occurred between us, and busy myself with the general arrangements. My aunt's face did brighten up when I approached her, and she smiled faintly. I was very distressed to see her in so sad a condition. I was on the point of referring to the past, and begging her forgiveness, but the doctor drew me back, and motioned to me to be silent. My presence and attentions seemed to cause my aunt so much satisfaction, that the doctor expressed a strong wish, if possible, that I should remain and nurse her. I could sleep on the sofa in the room. He feared that my services would not be very long required. I was so very glad to be of any comfort to my aunt, that I readily agreed to the proposition; then I recollected about Josiah, and reminded the doctor of the peculiar circumstances in which I was placed. He promised me that I should have no annoyance or anxiety on that score. I was thus fully established as chief nurse. My first meeting with Josiah was not nearly so embarrassing as I had feared; he was certainly cold and distant in his manner, but he expressed himself very pleased that my aunt should have me with her; nevertheless, I heard afterwards, that the unfortunate butler who had admitted me was peremptorily dismissed. At the first, when my aunt was so ill and helpless, Josiah came very little into "I must do something for her," continued my aunt. "O aunt!" exclaimed Josiah, starting from his seat and coming to the bedside, haven't I been always affectionate, and attentive, and dutiful? Did I marry against your commands? Did I spurn your kindness ?" the sick-room; but as soon as she grew My aunt was so pleased with Josiah's attentions, she would call out as loud as she could: "Thank you, Josiah; you go to bed; it's nothing, Josiah." I remember wanting to send a note home; there was no ink in my aunt's inkstand, so I asked the nurse to get some. She left the room, and Josiah presently came in with his own inkstand, and placed it before me. I wrote my note, which he undertook to send, and then he carried his inkstand off with him. Some how, I could never get any ink kept in my aunt's inkstand, and whenever I inquired for ink, Josiah was sure to come into the room. I soon discovered that every movement of mine was closely watched; but it was all done so cleverly and naturally, that I had not a word to say. One morning, Josiah was sitting in the room with my aunt and myself, I had been up several times in the night, and was in a sort of half-doze, when I heard my aunt address Josiah in a low tone: "She has been very good to me during my illness, giving up her time so entirely. You feel that, Josiah, don't you ?" "Yes, aunt." "Then, Josiah, forgive her, for my sake." "For your sake, aunt, I do forgive her." "You hear that ?" said my aunt to me, "Josiah forgives you." "From the bottom of your heart say so, Josiah." "From the bottom of my heart," echoed Josiah; but I could see the scowl on his face as he spoke. "You have been very good, Josiah very good," replied my aunt. "I only want to do some little thing for her, because she has been so attentive during this illness." My pride was aroused, and but for fear of over-exciting my aunt, I should have declined any return for doing what was merely my duty. "I can't give her any money; I've sworn not," said my aunt, addressing Josiah. "You did swear it," he replied very deliberately; "Mr. Chapman was witness." "But there are the diamonds, Josiah." "The diamonds!" he exclaimed, raising his voice. "I could give the diamonds, Josiah." "What! your own diamonds, aunt," said he, "which you have always worn?" "They're not money, Josiah." "But she married out of the family. Your diamonds go to strangers?" I could not endure this. I begged my aunt to let Josiah have the diamonds. "She shall have the diamonds!" said my aunt peremptorily. "Go and get them, Josiah ;" and with some difficulty, she took off her neck the key of the drawer. Josiah, much to his discontent, was forced to obey: he went to the boudoir, and brought in the diamonds, which he placed on the bed. I was so dreadfully afraid of some scene taking place, which I knew would be very prejudicial to my aunt, that I was greatly relieved at the doctor being announced. "There," said my aunt, pushing the case towards me with great effort, "I said they should be yours the first day I bought them, if you were a good girl: you have been very good during this illness; take them; and do what you like with them." "One word," said Josiah, speaking to me: "never forget that those were once Aunt Janet's diamonds, which she bought years ago. They are very precious to me. If you ever desire to part with them, jeweler's at the top of the Strand, where Mr. Huntly's family had dealt for many years. I gave the case into the hands of the chief partner of the firm, who happened to be in the shop, and asked him to give me some idea of the market-value of the stones. He made a very careful examination. "I suppose, ma'am," said he, "you are aware that these are not diamonds ?" I said, with great warmth, that they had belonged to an aunt of mine, that they were bought at -'s. The doctor was quite right; my services were not required very long; another seizure took place; and after lingering a few days, my aunt died. The whole of the property was left to Josiah, with the reservation that, if he died without children, the land was to go to my eldest son. Of course, we kept up no intercourse with Josiah; but I heard quite enough" they could not have been sold for of his goings-on to show that I had formed diamonds; but they are very perfect a true estimate of his character. As soon imitations; at first, I was deceived by as he came into his wealth, he began to them myself." lead a very wild and dissipated life. When I placed the diamonds in my husband's hands, I told him that Aunt Janet had given me the option of parting with them, which, if he thought advisable, I should be very happy to do, as I felt our circumstances would not permit of my wearing them. He would not listen to my proposal: he was not pressed for money, he said, and in a few years, I might be fully entitled to wear them. It Ah! my love, I am so glad that you are not going to marry a man on that horrid Stock Exchange! I am sure the dreadful anxiety I have undergone about Mr. Huntly. In those days, he was without the experience which he now possesses, and at a time when steady business was very dull, he took to speculating on his own account, and on behalf of others who were very cunning and plausible. seemed that he was successful at first, and I used to be quite surprised at his elation. of spirits. One day he came home sadly downcast; he had had very heavy losses, chiefly through the villainy of a client, whose debts my husband was bound to make good. He feared it would be necessary for me to part with the diamonds. Of course, I was only too glad to think that we yet possessed the means of setting things to rights. According to my promise, I resolved at once to write to Josiah, and offer him the diamonds; and we agreed that I had better ascertain their value from an experienced jeweler, and so mention a sum in the letter. Taking Lucy as an escort, I went off the next morning to a very old-established "Excuse me, ma'am," he replied; "Why," I replied, in a state of the greatest excitement, "I was present, years ago, when they were bought-I know they are diamonds." "You have asked my opinion," said the jeweler kindly, "and I am very sorry to be obliged to undeceive you. The proof is very simple: I shall, if you will allow me, draw a file over one of these stones; if the stone remains uninjured, it is a diamond." "Do it!" said I with desperation; but, as I spoke, I felt the man was right. We were ruined-my husband compromised ! Crash went the file the stone was starred! I looked for a moment, and fainted. When I came to myself, Lucy was attending to me. "Mr. Josiah," she whispered in my ear. "What?" said I, dreadfully confused. "He took them that night; I know he did." The shop-people were about us; I bade her be silent. We regained our coach, and returned home. I felt convinced that Josiah had changed the diamonds. Ah! me! it was very weary and sad waiting as that day dragged slowly on, and Mr. Huntly was so late. When he did come home, he was far calmer than I had expected. "Thank God," said he, "I know the worst of it a thousand pounds will set things straight. You told me your aunt gave more than twelve hundred for the diamonds "" "But -" said I, in a perfect agony. "But what?" he exclaimed impatiently. |