Clair, diamond merchant, had returned home, about five o'clock that evening, from town, and, fatigued with his day's business, had sought his warm, cozy parlor, where he was soon after joined by his daughter, Aurelia.
Mr. St. Clair was a stout, ruddy Englishman, with short-cropped gray beard and hair, and an almost perfect counterpart of the man who had so successfully used Turk, the messenger boy as the tool of a stupendous robbery.
He was reputed to be wealthy, and did not conduct his business like other jewelers, in the city, but at his residence. He was well known among the leading families of the city, whom he dealt with almost exclusively.
His daughter, Aurelia, was a tall, slender brunette, with dark eyes, and a coldly pretty face, and was, because of her fine dress and educational accomplishments, a favorite in the best society.
Anything money could procure, that would enhance her chances of winning a desirable "catch," was always placed at her command by her indulgent parent.
Petted and humored, from infancy, it was little wonder she had grown up a spoiled child, with a petulant tyrannical temperament, and a vain conceit that there was no one quite as good as herself.
And it might be added that she had also, in a measure, inherited some of these qualities from her father, who was not without an excellent and unbiased opinion of himself.
Miss St. Clair seemed much surprised to see her parent in the parlor-- so much so, that she started back with a cry.
"Hello! what ails you?" St. Clair ejaculated, looking around. "Am I a bear, that you are frightened at me?"
"Oh! no! no! no! but I didn't expect to see you here," she said, coming forward and kneeling by his side. "I thought you were in New York."
"New York? What nonsense, child! How came such a thought ever to enter your mind?"
"Why, because you sent the messenger boy for the diamonds!"
"The what? I've sent for no diamonds. Which ones? Speak, explain!"
"The magnificent ones you have always treasured so highly, in the green satin case. A messenger boy came with a note from you, saying I was to deliver them to him to fetch to you."
"And you did this!"
"No, for I was out riding. Your dear sister's child, Henriette, performed the work!"
The banker was white with passion as he arose and paced to and fro across the carpet.
"Send for the girl," he finally hissed, and Miss St. Clair seemed eager to ring for a servant to dispatch on the errand.
Miss Evelyn soon made her appearance, but an apprehensive expression came over her face as she saw the merchant.
"Young woman, who gave you authority to deliver my diamonds up to other people, open my daughter's letters and the like of that?"
"There was no one at home, except the servants, sir, and seeing it was your writing, and the boy saying he was ordered to come right back, I didn't suppose but what I would be doing you a favor, sir--"
"I never sent the letter nor the Boy. You are implicated in a conspiracy to defraud me; and you shall suffer the consequences! Hand over the letter to me."
"No, sir, I cannot!" the girl said, bravely. "If you are disposed to think me so wicked that I could wish to cheat you, or abuse your confidence in me as your sister's child, I shall keep the letter to defend myself with, before the courts."
CHAPTER III.
THE NEW HOME.
The St. Clairs were surprised.
Such a sudden outburst of courage from Etta, was something entirely new of her, who was ever quiet and unobtrusive, often bearing many slights at the hands of her relatives without resentment. She was now old enough to keenly feel the fact she was a dependent upon her uncle for support, and to know that she must gracefully acquiesce in the wishes of her uncle and cousin; but of late, Miss St. Clair had appeared to grow constantly jealous of her pretty cousin, and did all in her power to make Etta's life miserable.
The early life of the latter was shrouded in mystery, and all that she knew was that she was Jerome St. Clair's niece, and that she was dependent on him for her livelihood.
But to be suspected of intentional complicity in a robbery, was more than her sense of honor would bear, and she resolved to stand up for her rights, cost what it might.
If she lost her home with the St. Clairs, she was able to work, and could not well find a more cheerless abode.
"What!" Jerome St. Clair cried, angrily, after recovery from his astonishment at her words. "Do you mean to defy me, you saucy chit?"
"I mean just what I said, and nothing more!" Etta answered. "Because I have been dependent upon you for my living, it does not follow that
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