In a soft, white gown, with violets at her waist, she was playing with Harold Lind, and in her ash-blond hair was Jane Carew's amethyst comb. Jane gasped and paled. The amiable young woman who was her opponent stared at her. Finally she spoke in a low voice.
"Aren't you well. Miss Carew?" she asked.
The men, in their turn, stared. The stout one rose fussily. "Let me get a glass of water," he said.
The stupid small man stood up and waved his hands with nervousness.
"Aren't you well?" asked the amiable young lady again.
Then Jane Carew recovered her poise. It was seldom that she lost it. "I am quite well, thank you, Miss Murdock," she replied. "I believe diamonds are trumps."They all settled again to the play, but the young lady and the two men continued glancing at Miss Carew. She had recovered her dignity of manner, but not her color. Moreover, she had a bewildered expression. Resolutely she abstained from glancing again at her amethyst comb in Viola Longstreet's ash-blond hair, and gradually, by a course of sub-conscious reasoning as she carefully played her cards, she arrived at a conclusion which caused her color to return and the bewildered expression to disappear.
When refreshments were served, the amiable young lady said, kindly:
"You look quite yourself, now, dear Miss Carew, but at one time while we were playing I was really alarmed. You were very pale.""I did not feel in the least ill," replied Jane Carew. She smiled her Carew smile at the young lady. Jane had settled it with herself that of course Viola had borrowed that amethyst comb, appealing to Margaret. Viola ought not to have done that;she should have asked her, Miss Carew; and Jane wondered, because Viola was very well bred; but of course that was what had happened. Jane had come down before Viola, leaving Margaret in her room, and Viola had asked her. Jane did not then remember that Viola had not even been told that there was an amethyst comb in existence. She remembered when Margaret, whose face was as pale and bewildered as her own, mentioned it, when she was brushing her hair.
"I saw it, first thing. Miss Jane," said Margaret.
"Louisa and I were on the landing, and I looked down and saw your amethyst comb in Mrs. Long-street's hair."
"She had asked you for it, because I had gone down-stairs?" asked Jane, feebly.
"No, Miss Jane. I had not seen her. I went out right after you did. Louisa had finished Mrs.
Longstreet, and she and I went down to the mail-box to post a letter, and then we sat on the landing, and -- I saw your comb.""Have you," asked Jane, "looked in the jewel-case?"
"Yes, Miss Jane."
"And it is not there?"
"It is not there. Miss Jane." Margaret spoke with a sort of solemn intoning. She recognized what the situation implied, and she, who fitted squarely and entirely into her humble state, was aghast before a hitherto unimagined occurrence. She could not, even with the evidence of her senses against a lady and her mistress's old friend, believe in them. Had Jane told her firmly that she had not seen that comb in that ash-blond hair she might have been hypnotized into agreement. But Jane simply stared at her, and the Carew dignity was more shaken than she had ever seen it.
"Bring the jewel-case here, Margaret," ordered Jane in a gasp.
Margaret brought the jewel-case, and everything was taken out; all the compartments were opened, but the amethyst comb was not there. Jane could not sleep that night. At dawn she herself doubted the evidence of her senses. The jewel-case was thor-oughly overlooked again, and still Jane was incredu-lous that she would ever see her comb in Viola's hair again. But that evening, although there were no guests except Harold Lind, who dined at the house, Viola appeared in a pink-tinted gown, with a knot of violets at her waist, and -- she wore the ame-thyst comb. She said not one word concerning it;nobody did. Harold Lind was in wild spirits. The conviction grew upon Jane that the irresponsible, beautiful youth was covertly amusing himself at her, at Viola's, at everybody's expense. Perhaps he included himself. He talked incessantly, not in reality brilliantly, but with an effect of sparkling effervescence which was fairly dazzling. Viola's servants restrained with difficulty their laughter at his sallies. Viola regarded Harold with ill-concealed tenderness and admiration. She herself looked even younger than usual, as if the innate youth in her leaped to meet this charming comrade.
Jane felt sickened by it all. She could not under-stand her friend. Not for one minute did she dream that there could be any serious outcome of the situation; that Viola, would marry this mad youth, who, she knew, was making such covert fun at her expense; but she was bewildered and indignant.
She wished that she had not come. That evening when she went to her room she directed Margaret to pack, as she intended to return home the next day. Margaret began folding gowns with alacrity.
She was as conservative as her mistress and she severely disapproved of many things. However, the matter of the amethyst comb was uppermost in her mind. She was wild with curiosity. She hardly dared inquire, but finally she did.
"About the amethyst comb, ma'am?" she said, with a delicate cough.
"What about it, Margaret?" returned Jane, severely.
"I thought perhaps Mrs. Longstreet had told you how she happened to have it."Poor Jane Carew had nobody in whom to confide.
For once she spoke her mind to her maid. "She has not said one word. And, oh, Margaret, I don't know what to think of it."Margaret pursed her lips.
"What do YOU think, Margaret?"
"I don't know. Miss Jane."
"I don't."
"I did not mention it to Louisa," said Margaret.
"Oh, I hope not!" cried Jane.
"But she did to me," said Margaret. "She asked had I seen Miss Viola's new comb, and then she laughed, and I thought from the way she acted that --" Margaret hesitated.
"That what?"
