Aunt Mary | Page 9

Norton, taking the brooch from his
pocket, and handing it to me.
'"Yes," I said, "this is certainly my wife's brooch, but how it could
come into your possession is a mystery to me."
'"It need not be so long, if you will just walk into the Temple Gardens
with us. I am going to call on a friend there, and we shall be out of all
this noise and bustle," said Norton.
'As I was not just then under any engagement, I turned back with them,
and heard the story of the lost and found. It is a very simple one, and I
give it in his own words,' said Mr. Ellis.
'"You know Mr. and Mrs. Maitland," began Mr. Norton; "my wife says
that she met you at their house last winter, and as they are very old and
kind friends of hers, and our stay in town will be short, we set off
yesterday morning to call upon them. Unfortunately, the two nice little
girls were out, so we did not see them, though I hope we shall do so
before we leave London. After leaving Mr. Maitland's, we strolled
towards the Regent's Park; and when we had pretty well tired ourselves,
we made towards a pleasant seat under the shade of a magnificent tree.
A party of young ladies were just leaving the spot which we had
selected, but as they were intently looking on the ground, with their
backs towards us, they, I suppose, did not notice our approach; nor
could we, at the distance we were, recognise them.
'"In this pleasant spot we remained for some time, and on rising to go,
my wife saw just at her foot, though it was partially hidden by a tuft of
grass, the valuable brooch which I have just had the pleasure to restore
to you, and which it was our intention to place in your hands at your
own home, had we not thus accidentally met you. Very glad indeed I
am that we should have come upon the track of the young ladies, who
could be none other but the little Maitlands and your fair daughters.

To-morrow, I hope to bring my wife to Camden Terrace, and to
introduce her to your good lady as Mrs. Norton, instead of Laura
Vernon."
'Now, my dear,' said Mr. Ellis, 'you have got your brooch, and its recent
history. I strongly advise you to take more care of the one, and on no
account to forget the other.'
'I will try to take your advice, my dear,' said the lady. 'I am so glad, so
very glad, that my brooch is found.'
'And I am so sorry, so very sorry, Ada,' said Mr. Ellis, 'that we have a
daughter so prone to the detestable vices of pride, vanity, and deceit!'
'Oh, don't be too hard upon poor Mabel, dear,' said her mamma; 'she is
very young. You must forgive this childish trick.'
'Trick!' said Mr. Ellis, bitterly--'yes, you have given it a right name,
Ada; but I hate tricks.'
CHAPTER VI.
A FRIENDLY PROPOSITION.
The morning after the foregoing occurrence found Mabel very dull, and
very captious. She was of course glad to know that the brooch had been
found, but very uneasy at the manner of finding it. She was not, in truth,
sorry for the fault that she had committed, but her proud spirit chafed at
the idea of being talked about in the Maitland family, especially as she
knew that a young cousin of theirs, Harry Maitland, was expected to
pay them a visit on this very day, when the whole affair was sure to be
canvassed.
But we will leave Mabel to her own uneasy thoughts, and look in at the
pleasant family party assembled in the breakfast-room of the Laurels,
as Mr. Maitland's residence was designated. This villa, as we know,
adjoined that of Aunt Mary, who at this time was on a visit with her
niece Clara to that young lady's widowed mother, Mrs. Beaumont.

Cousin Harry had arrived, and made one of the happy group, who were
sitting, books and work in hand, for they were never idle, enjoying the
fresh pure air of the morning, and the delicious smell of flowers, of
which there was a profusion both outside and in. The garden, indeed,
was resplendent with variety and beauty of colouring, softly shaded
down by the laurels, which gave their name to the villa.
Mr. Maitland had been reading a book of travels, and he was now
descanting on the uses and properties of the Eucalyptus, or blue
gum-tree of Australia, which is said to grow as much in seven years, as
an oak will grow in twenty; attains sometimes the height of three and
four hundred feet, drains the ground,