"Is there much money in it?" asked Jane as quietly as before.

"No, nothing to make a fuss about. Only a few sovereigns and some
silver. Nothing much, but still of value to a hard-working woman."

"After that lie, I'll not spare her," muttered Jane to herself.
Aloud she said, "I was only a child of ten years or so, but I
remember the last time poor Mistress Bell was in that attic."

"Indeed. And when was that?" asked Lydia.

"I suppose it was then as she dropped the purse, and it got swept
away in all the confusion that followed," continued Jane, now placing
herself in front of Lydia, and gazing at her.

Lydia was helping herself to another mutton-chop, and began to feel
a little uncomfortable.

"When was Mrs. Bell last in the attics?" she said.

"I was with her," continued Jane. "I used to play a good bit with
Missie Mercy in those days, you remember, ma'am? Mrs. Bell was poking
about, but I was anxious for Mercy to come home to go on with our
play, and I went to the window. I looked out. There was a fine view
from that 'ere attic window. I looked out, and I saw--"

"What?" asked Lydia Purcell. She had laid down her knife and fork
now, and her face had grown a trifle pale.