could not see it.
Anne had been
smitten with
delightedadmiration when she first
saw that
brooch.
"Oh, Marilla, it's a
perfectlyelegantbrooch. I don't know how
you can pay attention to the
sermon or the prayers when you have
it on. I couldn't, I know. I think amethysts are just sweet.
They are what I used to think diamonds were like. Long ago,
before I had ever seen a diamond, I read about them and I tried
to imagine what they would be like. I thought they would be
lovely glimmering
purple stones. When I saw a real diamond in a
lady's ring one day I was so disappointed I cried. Of course, it
was very lovely but it wasn't my idea of a diamond. Will you let
me hold the
brooch for one minute, Marilla? Do you think
amethysts can be the souls of good
violets?"
CHAPTER XIV
Anne's Confession
ON the Monday evening before the
picnic Marilla came down from
her room with a troubled face.
"Anne," she said to that small
personage, who was shelling peas
by the spotless table and singing, "Nelly of the Hazel Dell" with
a vigor and expression that did credit to Diana's teaching, "did
you see anything of my amethyst
brooch? I thought I stuck it in
my pin
cushion when I came home from church
yesterday evening, but
I can't find it
anywhere."
"I--I saw it this afternoon when you were away at the Aid
Society," said Anne, a little slowly. "I was passing your door
when I saw it on the
cushion, so I went in to look at it."
"Did you touch it?" said Marilla sternly.
"Y-e-e-s," admitted Anne, "I took it up and I pinned it on my
breast just to see how it would look."
"You had no business to do anything of the sort. It's very wrong
in a little girl to
meddle. You shouldn't have gone into my room
in the first place and you shouldn't have touched a
brooch that
didn't belong to you in the second. Where did you put it?"
"Oh, I put it back on the
bureau. I hadn't it on a minute.
Truly, I didn't mean to
meddle, Marilla. I didn't think about
its being wrong to go in and try on the
brooch; but I see now
that it was and I'll never do it again. That's one good thing
about me. I never do the same
naughty thing twice."
"You didn't put it back," said Marilla. "That
brooch isn't
anywhere on the
bureau. You've taken it out or something, Anne."
"I did put it back," said Anne quickly--pertly, Marilla thought.
"I don't just remember whether I stuck it on the pin
cushion or laid
it in the china tray. But I'm
perfectly certain I put it back."
"I'll go and have another look," said Marilla, determining to be
just. "If you put that
brooch back it's there still. If it
isn't I'll know you didn't, that's all!"
Marilla went to her room and made a
thorough search, not only
over the
bureau but in every other place she thought the
broochmight possibly be. It was not to be found and she returned to
the kitchen.
"Anne, the
brooch is gone. By your own
admission you were the
last person to handle it. Now, what have you done with it?
Tell me the truth at once. Did you take it out and lose it?"
"No, I didn't," said Anne
solemnly, meeting Marilla's angry gaze
squarely. "I never took the
brooch out of your room and that is
the truth, if I was to be led to the block for it--although I'm
not very certain what a block is. So there, Marilla."
Anne's "so there" was only intended to
emphasize her assertion,
but Marilla took it as a display of defiance.
"I believe you are telling me a
falsehood, Anne," she said
sharply. "I know you are. There now, don't say anything more
unless you are prepared to tell the whole truth. Go to your room
and stay there until you are ready to confess."
"Will I take the peas with me?" said Anne meekly.
"No, I'll finish shelling them myself. Do as I bid you."
When Anne had gone Marilla went about her evening tasks in a very
disturbed state of mind. She was worried about her valuable
brooch. What if Anne had lost it? And how
wicked of the child
to deny having taken it, when anybody could see she must have!
With such an
innocent face, too!
"I don't know what I wouldn't sooner have had happen," thought
Marilla, as she
nervously shelled the peas. "Of course, I don't
suppose she meant to steal it or anything like that. She's just
taken it to play with or help along that
imagination of hers.
She must have taken it, that's clear, for there hasn't been a
soul in that room since she was in it, by her own story, until I