Chapter XXIV: 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.