WHAT VIOLET SAW IN A SHOP WINDOW
ANN and Violet had returned to Barford a week before the date on which
it had been arranged for the pupils of Helmsford College to
reassemble, and, as the weather continued fine, they spent most of
the days out-of-doors, taking long walks in the surrounding country.
It was on their way back from one of these pleasant excursions,
in which Mrs. Reed had joined, that they were one afternoon overtaken
by Dr. Elizabeth Ridgeway near her own door. The lady doctor was
delighted to see them, especially the girls, whom she had not met
for nearly two months.
"Now you must come in and have tea with me," she said, as soon as
greetings had been exchanged, "I am at leisure, or I wouldn't ask you.
I never give invitations which I don't wish people to accept. You'll
come? Yes. That's right. I want to hear how these young folks have
spent their holidays."
She led the way into her house and into the sitting-room, where she
took off her bonnet and cloak and handed them to the servant, who had
appeared upon the scene attracted by the sound of the opening of the
front door, and ordered tea to be brought at once.
"How is Mr. Luscombe?" she inquired, when her visitors were seated;
"I was so sorry to hear of his illness; it upset your plans, did it
not?"
"Yes," Mrs. Reed answered, "for we had intended paying a visit to my
mother-in-law during Ann's holidays. Mr. Luscombe is much better, I am
glad to say; he will be about again very soon, so now my husband and I
hope to go to Devonshire at the end of next month."
"Have you had your holiday, yet, Dr. Elizabeth?" asked Violet. Then,
as Dr. Elizabeth shook her head, she said: "But you'll take one, won't
you? I am sure you must need a change."
"I don't know that I do, my dear," was the smiling response; "but I
shall see. Ah, here comes tea!"
"And I for one am ready for it," confessed Mrs. Reed; "we have been
for a very long walk, and I was feeling nearly done up when you
overtook us. I am so glad to have a rest."
"We are making the most of the fine weather and the few remaining days
of the holidays," explained Ann; "but I am afraid we are tiring mother
out; we go on and on and forget that we have to walk back."
After having drunk a cup of tea Mrs. Reed declared herself to be
greatly refreshed. She sat quietly listening whilst Ann and Violet
talked to Dr. Elizabeth, telling her how they had spent their time at
Teymouth. By-and-by the conversation took a more serious turn, and Ann
spoke of poor Malvina Medland, and expressed her regret that Lottie
continued to give her mother so much anxiety.
"Have you seen Lottie since you came home?" Dr. Elizabeth inquired.
"Yes," Ann replied; "Violet and I went to see her on Saturday. She was
out when we arrived, but it was not long before she came in. As soon
as she caught sight of us in the kitchen with her mother, she ran
upstairs and shut herself into her room—Malvina's room, you know.
I went up, afterwards, and had a short conversation with her, but she
talked so wildly that she quite frightened me. She said she was
wicked, and a miserable girl, and not fit to pray, and she seemed
in a terrible state of grief. I did not know what to say to her,
I can't understand her."
"Nor I," admitted Dr. Elizabeth thoughtfully; "I've only seen her once
since her sister's death, on an occasion when I called in to see Mrs.
Medland —I happened to be passing and thought I might be able to speak
a comforting word to the poor woman. It struck me then that there was
something weighing on Lottie's mind; she seemed so restless, and I
noticed a furtive look in her eyes, a look I did not like at all.
I tried to gain her confidence, but I failed. The more I think of her
the more puzzled I become."
"Do you not think that the recollection that but for her bad behaviour
Malvina would have been much happier during her last illness weighs
upon her mind?" suggested Mrs. Reed.
"Doubtless it does to a great extent," agreed Dr. Elizabeth; "but I
do not fancy that alone is accountable for her strange conduct."
"I promised Malvina I would be a friend to Lottie if I could,"
Ann said in troubled tones.
"Yes," she went on, as she met Dr. Elizabeth's inquiring glance, "that
was the promise which she mentioned to you. But how can I befriend a
girl who evidently wants to have nothing to do with me?"
"At any rate you have tried to help her," said Violet; "you have done
all you could."
Shortly after that Mrs. Reed and the two girls rose to leave, and
Dr. Elizabeth accompanied them to the front door. As they lingered
exchanging a few words on the doorstep, their ears caught the sound
of music and many voices in the distance.
"There is a rabble in the Recreation Ground, I hear," observed
Dr. Elizabeth, "A large round-about has been there these last few
days, and it always attracts a crowd."
"That must be the round-about Mrs. Medland mentioned," remarked Violet
to her two companions when they had said good-bye to Dr. Elizabeth and
were pursuing their way along the street; "don't you remember she said
Lottie spent her evenings in the Recreation Ground now?"
"Yes," Ann assented; "Oh, how utterly heartless her behaviour seems!"
Dr. Elizabeth's house, as has been already stated, was situated in the
heart of the town, so, on their homeward way, Mrs. Reed and the girls
had to pass through the poor district in which was the Medland's home,
where the shops were small and dingy, with goods of most inferior
quality exhibited in the windows.
"See, mother," said Ann presently, "this is the pawnshop which we saw
Lottie Medland go into with a friend; don't you recollect we told you
about it?"
"Yes, certainly," Mrs. Reed answered.
"I suppose they must have been going to pawn something," said Violet;
"I wonder if they had ever been there before, or if that was their
first visit."
With one accord they paused and glanced curiously at the shop
in question. The window was filled with a medley of second-hand
articles—clothing, pictures, jewellery, and ornaments of every
description. Mrs. Reed noticed amongst other things a large family
Bible opened to exhibit a handsome print, a baby's coral with silver
bells, and a dice-box lying close together, and, as she looked,
her face saddened. She was turning away when Violet suddenly caught
her by the hand, and in a voice which was shrill with excitement,
cried:—
"Look, look! There, there! Oh Mrs. Reed, look at that purse—that
tortoise-shell purse! Oh, I'm sure it's the one Agnes Hosking lost!
Oh, Ann, look! Don't you recognise it? Oh, it must be the same!
There couldn't be two so exactly alike!"
Violet's agitation was extreme. Her cheeks were crimson, and her face
was twitching nervously. Following the direction her pointing finger
indicated, Mrs. Reed and Ann saw a tortoise-shell purse, a little open
to reveal its red morocco lining.
"Can it be Agnes Hosking's, I wonder?" said Ann. "Oh, how strange
if it is!"
"I am certain it is," declared Violet; "don't you see it has gold rims
and a gold clasp? I recognised it the moment I set eyes on it. Surely,
Ann, you must recognise it, too?"
"Yes, I do—at least I think so," replied Ann. She was the more
cautious of the two girls and was fearful of making a mistake. "At any
rate the purse is exactly like the one Agnes showed us," she added.
"There are not many purses so handsome as that one," Mrs. Reed
remarked; "if it is real tortoise-shell and real gold it is valuable."
She was feeling excited herself, and hopeful that Violet was right,
that this was indeed the purse about which there had been so much
trouble and fuss. "Perhaps someone picked it up in the street and sold
it," she suggested, "at any rate now we shall most likely be able to
find out. We will go home and tell your father about it, Ann, and
leave the matter in his hands. No doubt he will be able to ascertain
from whom the pawnbroker obtained the purse. I wonder if Agnes Hosking
would be able to identify it?"
"Oh, I should think there is no doubt about that!" exclaimed Violet.
"Oh, Mrs. Reed, oh, Ann, if that is really Agnes' purse my character
will be quite cleared, won't it? Oh, how thankful I am we looked in
that window!"
Arrived at home it was most disappointing to find that Dr. Reed had
driven into the country and had left a message to the effect that
dinner was not to be kept waiting for him as he could not tell what
time he might return, it might not be until late.
"Never mind, Vi," said Ann consolingly; "we will tell him about the
purse at breakfast to-morrow, if we do not see him to-night."
"But someone may take a fancy to it and buy it before them," returned
Violet, her bright face clouding over. Upon reflection, however,
she came to the conclusion that that was very unlikely to be the case.
Neither of the girls had much appetite for dinner; they were too
excited to eat, and Mrs. Reed being in the same condition, they did
not linger over the meal. In the drawing-room afterwards the
conversation was almost entirely about the tortoise-shell purse, and
all three continually watched the clock and kept remarking that surely
Dr. Reed would be at home soon. But it was ten o'clock before he,
at length, returned.
He entered the house by the back door, having driven the gig, in which
he generally did his country journeys, round to the stables himself,
as he had dropped his groom in the town to execute an errand for him.
Ann was the first to hear her father's footsteps in the hall, and she
would have rushed to meet him had not her mother stopped her.
"Don't be so impetuous, my dear," Mrs. Reed said quickly; "and don't
be in too great a hurry to speak of the purse. I expect your father
is tired and hungry; let him have a rest and something to eat, and
afterwards tell him our news."
But Dr. Reed was neither tired nor hungry as it happened. He had dined
at the country house where he had been to visit a patient—an old
gentleman who was a chronic invalid.
"I should have been home half-an-hour earlier, but as I was passing
the Recreation Ground I was stopped and told there had been an
accident there," he explained, "so I got out of the gig and went to
see if my services were required."
"And were they, Andrew?" asked his wife.
"No, my dear. Dr. Elizabeth Ridgeway had already been sent for and had
arrived before me."
"I hope nobody was much hurt," said Ann; "what was the accident,
father?"
"A girl fell off the round-about—I daresay you know there is one
in the Recreation Ground. Well, it appears it was going at full speed
when this poor girl, who was riding on one of the hobby-horses,
somehow managed to fall off. She was picked up insensible. Her home,
it seems, is near the Recreation Ground, and, under Dr. Elizabeth's
instructions, she has been taken there; she is one of Dr. Elizabeth's
patients."
"You did not hear the poor girl's name, father, did you?" asked Ann
eagerly.
"No, I did not," the doctor responded.
"Did you see her?" inquired Violet, glancing from Ann to Mrs. Reed
whose interest had quickened on hearing that the injured girl was
Dr. Elizabeth's patient.
"Yes, and helped to put her on the ambulance on which she was conveyed
to her home. There's injury to the head, I fear. She's in good hands
with Dr. Elizabeth. It's a sad case, though, for someone—a bystander—
told me that she is the only child of a widowed mother who lost her
other daughter only a month ago."
"Oh!" cried Ann distressfully, "Oh, I'm afraid it's Lottie Medland!"
"It really seems likely," said Mrs. Reed, in tones of deep concern.
"Lottie is the sister of that poor deformed girl in whom we were all
so much interested," she proceeded, as her husband looked at her
inquiringly, "I don't think you ever saw Lottie, but you have heard
of her. Don't you remember."
"Oh, yes," answered Dr. Reed, "I remember. Lottie is the girl who
bets."
"Was the poor girl who met with the accident in mourning?" questioned
Mrs. Reed.
"Yes, I believe she was," was the reply, given after a minute's
reflection.
"Then I am afraid it is Lottie," said Violet. "Oh, what a trouble
this will be for Mrs. Medland!"
"Well, we will not make up our minds that it is Lottie," remarked
Mrs. Reed; "whoever it is, though, it is very sad. Perhaps she was
only stunned; at any rate let us hope she is not seriously hurt.
Now, Violet, dear, you tell your news."
"I hope it is good news?" Dr. Reed said, with a smile at Violet.
She told him that she considered it was, and went on to explain
how she had caught sight of the tortoise-shell purse in the pawnshop
window, and that she believed it to be the one Agnes Hosking had lost.
"I will certainly see about it to-morrow," he said gravely, as soon as
she had finished her tale, "I suppose most people would go to the
police and let them take the matter in hand, but I feel I would rather
deal with it myself. It is just possible the person who sold
the purse—I have little doubt it has been sold—may have picked it up
and not seen the bills I had posted about the town, and if that is the
case I should not like to get that person into trouble. I must act
cautiously; but rest assured upon one point, Violet, if it is Agnes
Hosking's purse the rightful owner shall have it again."
"Thank you, Dr. Reed," Violet answered gratefully. "I know you will do
what is right," she proceeded, "I am glad you do not mean to go to the
police. Oh, I do feel so excited to think the purse is found! I never
thought it would be! How glad they will be at home! And I wonder what
Agnes Hosking will say when she knows!"
"I don't know what she will say, but I should think she will be
utterly ashamed of herself!" cried Ann, hotly, "I know I should be
in her place."
"I can't fancy you in her place," Violet said, with a tender
inflection in her voice, which was not lost upon her listeners.
Dr. and Mrs. Reed exchanged a quick glance of satisfaction. It pleased
them to see the affection which had sprung up between the two girls;
and Mrs. Reed was glad that she had agreed to her husband's plan,
on which she had looked somewhat dubiously at first, of taking one of
the Wyndham girls into their home, for it seemed, on the whole, to be
answering well.