angry flashes. "Who dares to say that Peter took the wallet?" she went
on, rising to her feet.

There was an unexpected reply. Jane entered the room at this moment to
ask a question.

"I say so, ma'am," she rejoined.

"What?" ejaculated Mrs. Crawford, with startling emphasis.

"I didn't mean to say anything about it till I found you were charging
it on Master Carl. I saw Peter open your bureau drawer, take out the
wallet, and put it in his pocket."

"It's a lie!" said Mrs. Crawford, hoarsely.

"It's the truth, though I suppose you don't want to believe it. If you
want to know what he did with the money ask him how much he paid for the
gold ring he bought of the jeweler down at the village."

"You are a spy--a base, dishonorable spy!" cried Mrs. Crawford.

"I won't say what you are, ma'am, to bring false charges against Master
Carl, and I wonder the doctor will believe them."

"Leave the house directly, you hussy!" shrieked Mrs. Crawford.

"If I do, I wonder who'll get the dinner?" remarked Jane, not at all
disturbed.