by Sophie May
CHAPTER III.
THE LOST BROOCH.
It was a lovely afternoon in the beginning of August. Some few fleecyclouds occasionally intercepted the rather too warm beams of the sun,from which our young friends intended to take shelter under the trees inthe Regent's Park; for Dora and Annie Maitland had wisely determinednot to mention Thomas Hutton and his glass beehives after what they hadseen and heard at Camden Terrace, for they well knew that it would beimpossible to walk that distance, and back again, in an hour.
'I have a beautiful book that my papa gave me yesterday,' said DoraMaitland; 'I thought you would like to see it, so I brought it with me.We can look at it while we sit to rest in the Park.'
'Oh yes, that will be delightful,' said Mabel; but she almostimmediately added, 'I think I would rather look at the gay dresses ofthe ladies; we can look at books when we are at home.'
'Mabel is always talking about dress,' said her sister, laughing. 'I'msure I don't care how I am dressed, if I am only clean and neat; it issuch a trouble to be afraid of spoiling what one has on.'
Julia's opinion was echoed by Dora and Annie Maitland, so Mabel foundshe had no seconder; and they tripped along silently until they arrivedat the desired spot for resting, a nice seat under the shade of a largetree. Here they were just going to seat themselves, when an exclamationfrom Mabel attracted the attention of the others, who inquired eagerlywhat was the matter.
'Oh, the brooch--mamma's beautiful brooch!' said the excited girl, ingreat distress; 'it is gone out of my necktie. Oh, what shall I do? whatshall I do? It is mamma's favourite brooch; the one that papa gave hermany years ago. Oh, I cannot go home without it!' continued Mabel, in astate of great distress.
'How could you be so foolish as to put it on, when you were only goingfor a country walk?' said Dora Maitland.
'I can't think why you should wear your mamma's brooch at all,' remarkedAnnie, 'unless she gave you leave.'
'But mamma did not give her leave; mamma has forbidden us to wear it,'said Julia, 'and I begged Mabel not to put it into her necktie to-day,for fear she should lose it; but she would do it, and now all ourpleasure is spoilt.'
'You need not talk in that way,' angrily retorted her sister; 'you arefond enough of putting on mamma's gold chain when she leaves it out ofthe box, though she has often told you not to do so.'
'Hush, hush!' said Dora Maitland; 'quarrelling won't find the brooch;and see, there are a lady and gentleman coming toward us. Let us returnhome at once, the same way that we came: there were not many people onthe road, and if we all look diligently we may find it, though I am muchafraid that we shall not.'
This advice seemed the best that could be adopted by the young party,and they turned their steps homewards in no very enviable state ofmind. There had been, indeed, much to damp the spirits, and prevent theenjoyment of this afternoon's walk. It is true that all around wasbeautiful, but that little monitor within, which insists upon beingheard whether it is attended to or not, had acted like a thorn in theflesh to Mabel and Julia: and though Dora and Annie Maitland had nothingreally to reproach themselves with, yet they could not forget the paleface of poor Mrs. Ellis, and her words of remonstrance to her selfishchildren seemed still to sound in their ears; and now they werereturning home with a fresh trouble to the invalid lady.
Dora's beautiful book, which had been presented to her by her papa as areward for her kind and dutiful attention to him, when he was sufferingseverely for some days from nervous headache, had of course not beenthought of; the brooch, the unfortunate brooch, engrossed every faculty;yet with all the search, and research, it was not found, and the youngpeople took a dolorous leave of each other, and repaired to theirrespective homes.
'Now don't you say a word about the brooch to mamma to-night,' saidMabel to her sister; 'I dare say it will be found, and it is no useteasing her about it, now she is poorly.
'Mamma is sure to miss the brooch off the dressing-table in themorning,' replied Julia; 'and if I am spoken to about it, I am notgoing to tell a story, Mabel.'
'Who wants you to tell a story?' exclaimed Mabel, sharply. 'I know youare always very ready to tell tales, when it would be much better foryou to hold your tongue.'
'You always go on in that way when you are vexed about anything,'replied Julia. 'I'm sure I wish we had not gone for a walk; we have hadno pleasure, all because you would try to make yourself look smart. Youknow, I begged of you not to put on the brooch, but, as papa says, youare so wilful!'
'You have no right to repeat what papa says. Better look at your ownfaults than talk about mine,' cried the angry girl, as she opened thegarden-gate that led to the back door of their residence.
Freddy was looking out of the window, but Mabel took no notice of him,but ran straight upstairs to her own bedroom, to take off her things andexamine minutely her dress, if happily the missing brooch might haveslipped down into her bosom.
Julia, however, went to inquire how her mamma was, and therefore was thefirst to hear the dismal tidings that papa had come home on purpose totake his daughters to a place of entertainment, but finding they werenot at home, had gone out again very angry, without eating any dinner.This, though it put the finishing stroke to that day's disaster, poorJulia knew would not be an end to the troubles they would have toencounter; for though indeed she was innocent of blame with regard tothe brooch, she felt she had acted selfishly in leaving her mamma withthe children, when she saw how tired and poorly Mrs. Ellis appeared tobe.
'I am very sorry, dear mamma,' said Julia, 'that you have been sotroubled with the children; I hoped that Susan would have minded themwhile we were out.'
'Well, go now and take off your things, my dear,' replied Mrs. Ellis;'then you and Mabel can have tea in the nursery with the children, whileI rest on the sofa.'
'Yes, dear mamma; they shall go with me at once,' said Julia. 'Come,Freddy; come, Gerty; and come, little Willie,' she added, as she tookthe chubby hand in her own, and was leading him away, when her mammasaid, 'Mind you don't hurt his poor leg, Julia, for he has fallen andscraped the skin off.'
'Oh, poor boy!' said his sister, as she took Willie up in her arms; 'letus go and put a "passer" on it.' This was always what the little fellowcalled out for, when he hurt himself: 'Oh, put a "passer" on--put a"passer" on!'
Mabel was very glad when Julia brought up the children, and told herthat their mamma was lying down on the sofa, for she had no wish to talkjust then with anybody. She felt indeed much disquieted, but what herfeelings were when her sister related the circumstance of their papa'scoming home, on purpose to take them to a place of amusement, may bemore easily imagined then described; and yet we fear that self-reproachdid not, in the smallest degree, mingle with their feelings, so littledo some people know of _self_.
