"Give it to Shirley and Caroline—they did it," was alleged with more attention to effect than truth.
"Traitor and false witness!" cried both the girls. "We never laid hands on a thing, except in the spirit of laudable inquiry."
"Exactly so," said Moore, with his rare smile. "And what have you ferreted out, in your 'spirit of laudable inquiry?'"
He perceived the inner drawer open.
"This is empty," said he. "Who has taken?"
"Here! here!" Caroline hastened to say; and she restored the little packet to its place. He shut it up; he locked it in with a small key attached to his watch-guard; he restored the other papers to order, closed the repository, and sat down without further remark.
"I thought you would have scolded much more, sir," said Henry. "The girls deserve reprimand."
"I leave them to their own consciences."
"It accuses them of crimes intended as well as perpetrated, sir. If I had not been here, they would have treated your portfolio as they have done your desk; but I told them it was padlocked."
"And will you have lunch with us?" here interposed Shirley, addressing Moore, and desirous, as it seemed, to turn the conversation.
"Certainly, if I may."
"You will be restricted to new milk and Yorkshire oat-cake."
