CHAPTER II.

While Miss Joanna Middleton was imparting the news of her startling discovery to her sisters in the house, Teddy and her aunt Thomasine were walking as swiftly as possible toward the lower end of the garden. Theodora's face betrayed that she was greatly excited, and she held her aunt's hand tightly, and almost dragged her along in her haste to get there.

"My dear Teddy," said Miss Thomasine at length, while she fairly gasped for breath, "I am not accustomed to walking so fast. I--I really must stop for a moment."

"Oh, do excuse me, Aunt Tom! I never thought. You see, I am so used to running."

They stopped, and stood facing each other for a moment.

"What have you under your apron?" asked Miss Thomasine.

Theodora's face grew redder still, and she cast down her eyes. This was unusual, for the child had a frank, fearless habit of fixing her brown eyes upon those of the person to whom she was speaking which was very winning. Her face had a way of showing every emotion which she might be feeling, and her aunt saw at once that something was the matter.

"Are you so troubled about the kitten, Teddy, my dear?" asked Miss Thomasine. "Do you begin to feel sorry that you fought the boy?"

"I'm not a bit sorry, Aunt Tom. I'm glad, glad, _glad_! But you needn't look so disappointed; the sorry feeling may come later. It usually does after I've been naughty, but sometimes not for a good while. For instance, when I've been naughty in the morning I very often don't begin to feel sorry till toward sunset. I suppose I begin to think then of that verse in the Bible about not letting the sun go down on your wrath. So perhaps late in the afternoon I may begin to feel a little bit sorry about Andy Morse, though I don't know. But are you rested yet, Aunt Tom? I do want to get to the funeral, but not unless you are quite ready," she added, politely.

"Suppose you take my other hand," said Miss Thomasine, "and I will hold my sunshade in this one."

For some reason this arrangement did not appear to please Theodora. However, she put both of her hands under her apron, and after a curious sound of the clatter of china, she produced her right hand and gave it to her aunt.

"What have you there, Teddy, my dear? What are you hiding under your apron?" asked the gentle little lady.

"Oh, nothing much, Aunt Tom. At least--that is--yes, there is something, but--well--I would rather not tell you what it is, if you don't mind."

Soon they turned a corner, and reached the spot where the six Hoyt boys were awaiting them.

"We thought you were never coming, Ted! What kept you so long?" shouted Paul, who was the eldest, and therefore master of ceremonies. Catching sight of Miss Thomasine, he stopped abruptly. "Aren't you going to have a funeral?" he asked. "We've got everything ready."

"Oh yes, we're going to have it," responded she; "Aunt Tom came with me to see how we do it. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but I really could not get here before; and now I must speak to Arthur a minute. You other boys just entertain Aunt Tom, please. She would like to rest. What a lovely grave, and what sweet flowers! Arthur, come here a minute."

They walked a short distance away, and then disappeared behind some currant-bushes. The other boys appeared to be unequal to the task of entertaining Miss Thomasine, so a profound silence reigned, making plainly audible the murmur of Theodora's voice.

"Hurry up there," said Paul, impatiently. "If you want me to help with this funeral you must come quick. What are you talking about, anyway?"

"Never mind," replied Teddy, running into sight, followed by Arthur. "It's a secret, and you mustn't ask."

Her aunt noticed that both hands were now visible, and that she carried nothing in them; but Miss Thomasine soon forgot that she had felt any curiosity in the matter, and turned her attention to the proceedings of these very remarkable children. She also forgot that she had been deputed by her sisters to stop these proceedings, and became wholly and at once an interested spectator.

"We will start from here and walk once around the garden," said Teddy, "and we will make quite a long procession, for there are so many of us. I wish we had some music. We might pretend that the poor dear kitten was a soldier."

"So we will," cried Clement. "I'll get my drum quicker than a wink."

Before he had finished speaking he was over the garden wall.

"And get my trumpet," shouted Raymond.

Presently Clem returned, and all was now ready. Upon the boys' express wagon reposed a pasteboard box, in which had been placed the kitten, more honored in its death than in its short, unhappy life. Yellow daisies, asters, and golden-rod were heaped upon the cart in magnificent profusion, but the handle was draped in black.

Arthur and Walter acted as horses, and subdued their natural speed to a funereal gait; Clem and Raymond marched before, one beating his drum with measured rat-tat-tat, the other blowing long and melancholy wails upon his Fourth-of-July horn. On either side the cart walked Paul and Charlie, while close behind came Theodora and her aunt Thomasine.

"You will make a perfect chief mourner," whispered Teddy, "for your hat is so black and so is your cape. I shall hold my handkerchief to my eyes, so."

"But, my dear," expostulated Miss Thomasine, "I really cannot. I do not approve. Remember, it is only a kitten."

"Yes, yes, I do remember. That poor dead kitten! Please come, Aunt Tom! Don't spoil it all, and try to look as sad as you can!"

And before Miss Thomasine really knew it, the procession had begun to move and she was in it. Around the garden they walked, and finally returned to their starting-place, where the grave had been already dug. Paul and Charlie attended to this part of the ceremonies, the musicians blew and beat a parting salute upon their instruments, Theodora mopped her dry eyes, and the horses, when all was over, relieved their feelings by running away.

"Wasn't it fun?" exclaimed Teddy. "I never did like anybody so much as you boys, and you do a funeral beautifully. Do you really have to go back now, Aunt Tom? I wish you could stay here and play with us. Charlie is going to let me try his bicycle, and I'd like you to see me."

"Oh, my dear child," cried Miss Thomasine. "It will never do in the world. You must not--indeed you must not! If you knew the feeling that your aunts and I have about bicycles."

"But they are not dangerous, Aunt Tom. Indeed, _lots_ of people ride them."

"It is not the danger so much as the-- Well, my dear, you must never do it without asking your other aunts. A lady on a bicycle!"

"But I'm not a lady; I'm only a child. Besides, lots of ladies ride them. I've seen them in Alden over and over again."

"It does not seem to me as if they can be real ladies. But come into the house and ask your aunt Adaline. I cannot take any more responsibility. I feel uncomfortable now about that funeral. I do not know what your other aunts will say."

"Oh dear!" grumbled Theodora; "it is such a bother to have to ask so many people what I can do. If it were just you, Aunt Tom, I shouldn't mind, but five are such a lot, and you all think everything is so dreadful. I am sure mamma would let me ride a wheel." Her aunt made no reply, and they walked toward the house. "There, I suppose I ought not to have said that," added Teddy, penitently, after a moment's pause. "It was disrespectful, I suppose. But oh, Aunt Tom, if you only won't all say I can't ride a wheel, it is all I ask!"

They found the door standing open, and from the sound of voices it was evident that some one was in the parlor, and immediately the parlor door was opened a crack, and at it appeared Miss Melissa, beckoning mysteriously to her sister.

"Come!" she whispered. "Thomasine, the-- My dear sister, be prepared! a cruel blow!"

"What do you mean, Melissa?" cried Miss Thomasine, her nerves quite unstrung by the performance in which she had so recently taken part, and also by her late altercation, if so it could be called, with her niece.

"Come!" repeated Miss Melissa, and her sister went into the drawing-room, almost expecting to find that there had been a death in the family.

Theodora ran up stairs. "They have found it out! they have found it out!" she thought, and flying to her room she closed and bolted the door. Ten minutes later her name was called from without.

"Miss Theodora, are you there?" It was Mary Ann, one of the maids. Teddy did not speak nor move.

"Miss Theodora," said Mary Ann again, tapping at the door and rattling the handle as she spoke. "I think, miss, you had better let me in. Your aunts want to speak to you."

Slowly Teddy rose from the bed, where she had flung herself, and reluctantly opened the door. Her dark hair, which was cut short across her forehead and hung in a wavy mass behind, looked sadly dishevelled, and her face showed unmistakably that she had been crying. "What do they want me for?" she asked.

"A terrible thing has happened, miss," replied Mary Ann, in an awed whisper; "the Middleton bowl is broke--the Middleton bowl as was worth hundreds of dollars, I've heard tell, that folks has been comin' from all over the country to see ever since I've lived here, and that's goin' on fifteen years."

"But why do they want me?" asked Theodora, showing no surprise when told of the calamity, as Mary Ann noted.

"Because, miss, _some_body has broke it, and as it ain't one of the ladies themselves, it must have been either you or some of the help. So, miss, if 'twas you and you don't tell it, some of us has got to suffer."

"Mary Ann," said Teddy, stopping short at the stairs, "must I really go down? Can't I run away? Won't you help me to run away, Mary Ann? I'll give you something nice if you will."

"La, miss, don't talk and look so wild! You just tell 'em you did it quite accidental, and they'll forgive you. The Miss Middletons is real ladies, and they won't scold, but they'll take it awful hard if you try to deceive 'em. Just tell 'em you did it."

"I can't possibly do that. Oh, Mary Ann, I wish I were in South America with my father and mother!"

She had reached the parlor door by this time, and there she paused. Presently, summoning all her courage, she pushed it open and entered.

"Poor little miss!" said Mary Ann to herself. "Of course she did it, and I'm real sorry for her."

And then she went off to the kitchen to tell the other frightened servants that there was no doubt as to who was guilty.

The parlor was a very large room, and Venetian-blinds at the seven long windows shut out the light of day as much as possible. Two of them, at one end of the room, had been drawn up this morning, however. As has been said, the parlor was furnished in old-fashioned mahogany. There were eight-legged tables, quaintly shaped shelves and cabinets, Chippendale chairs, and even an ancient piano, made in the style of eighty years ago.

The Misses Middleton were modern in one respect only; their drawing-room was filled with bric-à-brac. There were lacquered-ware tea-poys from Japan and quaint idols from India, while rare old bits of china filled every available space. Near one of the windows stood a Chinese table. It was curiously carved, and the top was inlaid with bits of wood and ivory in the shapes of mysterious Chinese symbols, and upon this table had always rested, in honor and apparent security, the famous Middleton bowl.

The walls were lined with rare old paintings, and portraits from the hands of Sully, Stuart, and even of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Gainsborough, looked down upon the five descendants of the ancient race of Middleton this September morning when they sat, drawn up in battle array, to receive their niece.

Slowly she walked into the room, and with downcast eyes and burning face she stood before her aunts. They were seated in a semicircle, their backs turned toward the windows, where the shades had been raised; therefore the light streamed full in the face of Theodora.

"What have you to say for yourself, Theodora?" asked Miss Middleton, in an impressive voice.

There was no reply. Miss Thomasine looked unhappy, and covered her face with her handkerchief, and Miss Melissa again made use of her salts. Miss Dorcas began to knit nervously, but Miss Joanna stared straight at Theodora through her gold-rimmed spectacles.

"Have you nothing to say, Theodora?" asked Miss Middleton, after a pause.

"No, Aunt Adaline."

"You have not told her why she has been called, sister!" exclaimed Miss Thomasine. "Perhaps she knows nothing about it."

"Is that probable after what you told us?" asked Miss Middleton, austerely. "However, I will humor you. Theodora, you have seen the Middleton bowl?"

Involuntarily Teddy's eyes turned toward the now empty Chinese table, and then were dropped again.

"Yes, it stood there," continued Miss Middleton, "and at ten o'clock this morning it was still there, for I saw it myself. At a quarter past eleven, when your aunt Joanna came down to dust the parlor, the Middleton bowl was gone! Not a trace of it left but this small piece of china to show that it had ever been there."

Theodora glanced up again, and saw a triangular bit of china, an inch or two long, which her aunt held in her hand and then laid upon the table.

"You know the value of that bowl. You have been told that your great-grandfather brought it home, and that there is said to be but one like it in the world. Now that other is the only one. The Middleton bowl is no more."

She paused, and her sisters, more than one of them, sobbed audibly. Miss Middleton, Miss Joanna, and Theodora herself alone were dry-eyed.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?" asked Miss Middleton, for the third time.

And again Theodora replied, "No, Aunt Adaline."

Miss Middleton's foot moved impatiently. "You must say something, Theodora. In plain words, did you break the bowl?" There was no answer. "Very well. You would have saved yourself in our esteem if you had confessed at once that you broke it, and that it was an accident, as I suppose it was. We should have forgiven you, great as the loss is. Now you are attempting to hide it. I am only thankful that you are not actually denying the fact, but I suppose you realize that it would be useless. The evidence is too strong against you."

"What do you mean, Aunt Adaline?"

"Your aunt Thomasine will explain."

"Oh, sister!" murmured Miss Thomasine. "I almost wish I had not told you; but you took me so by surprise that the words came right out before I knew it. Poor little Teddy! I am sure she did not mean to break it."

"I beg you will not call her by that ridiculous boy's name, Thomasine!" interrupted Miss Joanna. "And you are doing your best to encourage her to keep silence. I think you and sister Adaline are entirely too lenient. If I had _my_ way, I should soon force her to confess."

Teddy, who had almost cried while her aunt Thomasine was speaking, now raised her head and gazed defiantly at Miss Joanna. "_I did not break the bowl_," she said, in a loud, clear voice.

"Oh, Theodora!" exclaimed the five aunts, in a chorus of dismay.

"I did not break the bowl," she repeated.

"But, my dear, the pieces which you carried under your apron to the garden?" murmured Miss Thomasine, greatly aghast at the turn which affairs were taking.

"How do you know I did?" asked Theodora, her face, which had become pale, again growing red.

"I--I thought I heard them clatter, but I may have been mistaken."

"The only thing to do," said Miss Joanna, "is to go to the garden ourselves, and find what is left of the bowl. You said, Thomasine, that she appeared to have placed the pieces among the currant-bushes. Then we shall discover whether or not you were mistaken. You are painfully weak and indefinite, and I am glad that I, for one, always know what I am talking about. Do you not agree with me, Adaline, that it would be well for us to go?"

Miss Middleton acquiesced, and the five sisters made themselves ready for their walk. They were arrayed in garden hats and black silk mantillas, and each one carried a sunshade. Even in the midst of her misery Theodora wondered at their dressing so exactly alike, and why they all wore gloves that were too large for them.

Slowly they walked, two by two, along the path which led to the garden, the maids watching them from the kitchen windows, and John, the hired man, pausing in his work among the sweet-pease to stare after them in astonishment. He also had heard of the calamity which had befallen the household, but he did not know the connection between that and the foot of the garden, and he never before had seen his mistresses walk there at high noon (as it was according to the old dial), though he had lived with them, and hoed their potatoes for twenty years.

Two by two they went, Theodora and her aunt Thomasine in front, the other aunts behind, down the very path over which had passed that delightful funeral procession so short a time before.

"I wish I were that kitten!" thought Teddy, miserably. "I would rather be stoned than this! I suppose there is no way out of it. I've got to show them where I hid the pieces. If I only hadn't left that little bit which I never saw at all, they would have thought the bowl was stolen. They never would have dreamed of my breaking it. How foolish I was!"

One of the Hoyt boys, looking over the wall, saw the approach of the Middleton ladies, and summoning all his brothers who were available, they leaned upon the wall and watched the proceedings with intense interest. Arthur alone, when he saw them coming, dropped the rake which he had been using and fled toward the barn.

"She's only a girl, after all," he said to himself, indignantly. "She can't keep it dark. I told her they'd never guess it if she only held her tongue, and now she has given it away!"

Then his curiosity as to what would happen next overcame his apparent desire for flight, and he returned to his brothers on the garden wall, from the top of which could be had a fine view of the Misses Middletons' currant-bushes. When he arrived at this point of vantage he found that the ladies had reached the object of their walk, and that they stood in a row upon the path.

"Now," said Miss Joanna, with sarcasm--"now we shall see whether Thomasine was mistaken or not!"

She closed her sunshade with a vicious snap, and proceeded to poke with it under the bushes. Theodora watched her for a moment in silence.

"You needn't do that, Aunt Joanna," she said; and walking to a little distance, she stooped and thrust her hand into the mass of green weeds and dead leaves which had accumulated there. Almost immediately she drew forth two pieces of broken china. "Here they are," she said.

Miss Middleton took one piece and Miss Joanna the other. Without a word they turned toward home. Miss Melissa and Miss Dorcas followed, and then Miss Thomasine, holding Theodora by the hand, fell into line behind. They walked away as slowly as they had come.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

A LOYAL TRAITOR.

A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND.

BY JAMES BARNES.