was going to be lame all the rest of his life, and perhaps that is the
reason I did what I did. When everything was in confusion in the house,
and it was certain that we would all have to leave, I did a very wicked
thing. I went to your room, and I stole some of your rings, and some
money that was there, as well as a lot of other things that were in the
room. It seemed to me then, although, of course, I know now how wicked
it was, that you owed John something for what he had gone through, and
I thought that he was to be lame, and that you would never miss the
things; but, oh! madam, I have not slept a night since I took them. I
have been afraid of the police and afraid of being found out. I have
pawned nothing, and they are all just as I took them, and I have brought
them back here to you, with every penny of the money. I know you can
never forgive me, but I am willing now to be given up to the police,
and I feel better in my mind than I have done ever since I took
the things."

"My poor child!" said Mrs. Brenton, sympathetically, "was that _all_?"

"All?" cried the girl. "Yes, I have brought everything back."

"Oh, I don't mean that, but I am sorry you have been worried over
anything so trivial. I can see how at such a time, and feeling that you
had been wronged, a temptation to take the things came to you. But I
hope you will not trouble any more about the matter. I will see that
John is compensated for all the injury he received, as far as it is
possible for money to compensate him. I hope you will keep the money.
The other things, of course, I shall take back, and I am glad you came
to tell me of it before telling any one else. I think, perhaps, it is
better never to say anything to anybody about this. People might not
understand just what temptation you were put to, and they would not know