Cleeve had conversed. On the tombstone
still lay the coral bracelet which Dr. Helmsdale had flung down
there in his indignation; for the agitated, introspective mood into
which Swithin had been thrown had banished from his mind all thought
of securing the trinket and putting it in his pocket.
Louis picked up the little red scandal-breeding thing, and while
walking on with it in his hand he observed Tabitha Lark approaching
the church, in company with the young blower whom she had gone in
search of to inspire her organ-practising within. Louis immediately
put together, with that rare diplomatic keenness of which he was
proud, the little scene he had witnessed between Tabitha and Swithin
during the confirmation, and the Bishop's stern statement as to
where he had found the bracelet. He had no longer any doubt that it
belonged to her.
'Poor girl!' he said to himself, and sang in an undertone--
'Tra deri, dera,
L'histoire n'est pas nouvelle!'
When she drew nearer Louis called her by name. She sent the boy
into the church, and came forward, blushing at having been called by
so fine a gentleman. Louis held out the bracelet.
'Here is something I have found, or somebody else has found,' he
said to her. 'I won't state where.
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