When the crowd moved away from the passage, and began to scatter,
Margery and her charge left the old pew in the highest gallery and
prepared to go down the great staircase which led to the entrance door.
Near the door there stood two elders of the church, with metal plates in
their hands, waiting for the offerings of the congregation. Grace had
been holding hers tightly in her hand, having untied it from her neck
and slipped the ribbon in her pocket, and now she laid it gently among
the silver, and the pennies, and the Scotch bank-notes, hoping that it
might slip unobserved between one of the crumpled notes, and so escape
the detective glance of Margery's quick eyes. But her hope was vain.
Nurse caught sight of the pearls gleaming pure and white among the other
offerings: "Missy, what have you done? Your locket! your mamma's
beautiful pearl locket! Did I ever see the like? It's a mistake, sir.
Miss Campbell could not have meant it," she said, turning to the elder,
with her hand raised to recapture it.
"Stop, Margery, it is not a mistake; I meant to put it there," replied
Grace in an eager whisper, as she pulled her nurse's shawl, glancing
timidly at the elder, as if she feared he was going to conspire with
Margery, and that, after all, her offering would be rejected.
"Missy! are you mad? What will your aunt say? Really, sir, will you be
so kind?"--and Margery did not finish her sentence, but looked piteously
at the elder, who was glancing at the little girl with a kindly, though
questioning expression in his eyes, saying presently:
"You may have your locket back, if you wish it, my child.
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