Macaria. Augusta J. Evans

somewhat apart. A half-smothered exclamation caused the workman to turn round and look at her, but in an instant she calmed herself; and thinking it a mere outbreak of impatience, he resumed his employment. Just then one of the proprietors approached, and said politely, "I am sorry we have kept you waiting, miss. What can I do for you?"

      "What is this worth?"

      She laid the locket down on the counter, and looked up with eyes that sparkled very joyously he thought. He examined it a moment, and said rather dryly—

      "Well, how do I know, in the first place, that it belongs to you? Jewellers have to be very particular about what they buy."

      She crimsoned, and drew herself proudly away from the counter, then smiled and held out her hand for the locket.

      "It is mine; it held my father's miniature, but I took it out because I want a paint-box, and thought I could sell this case for enough to buy one. It was my mother's once; here are her initials on the back, H. G.—Harriet Grey. But of course you don't know whether I am telling the truth; I will bring my cousin with me, he can prove it. Sir, are you so particular about everything you buy?"

      "We try to be."

      Again her eyes sparkled; she bowed, and left the store.

      Once in the street, she hurried to Mr. Campbell's office, ran up the steps, and rapped loudly at the door.

      "Come in!" thundered the lawyer.

      She stopped on the threshold, glanced round, and said timidly—

      "I want to see Russell, if you please."

      "Russell is at the post-office. Have you any particular spite at my door, that you belabour it in that style? or do you suppose I am as deaf as a gatepost?"

      "I beg your pardon; I did not mean to startle you, sir. I was not thinking of either you or your door."

      She sprang down the steps to wait on the sidewalk for her cousin, and met him at the entrance.

      "Oh, Russell! I have found your watch."

      A ray of light seemed to leap from his eyes as he seized her hand.

      "Where?"

      "At Mr. Brown's jewellery store."

      "Thank God!"

      He went up the stairway, delivered the letters, and came back accompanied by Mr. Campbell.

      "This is my cousin, Electra Grey, Mr. Campbell."

      "So I inferred from the unceremonious assault she made on my door just now. However, shake hands, little lady; it seems there is some reason for your haste. Let's hear about this precious watch business."

      She simply told what she had seen. Presently Russell said—

      "But how did you happen there, Electra?"

      "Your good angel, sent me, I suppose; and," she added in a whisper, "I will tell you some other time."

      On re-entering the store, she walked at once to the workman's corner, and pointed out the watch.

      "Yes, it is mine. I would know it among a thousand."

      "How can you identify it, Aubrey?"

      He immediately gave the number, and name of the manufacturer, and described the interior tracery, not omitting the quantity of jewels. Mr. Campbell turned to the proprietor (the same gentleman with whom Electra had conversed), and briefly recapitulated the circumstances which had occurred in connection with the watch. Mr. Brown listened attentively, then requested Russell to point out the particular one that resembled his. He did so, and on examination, the number, date, name, and all the marks corresponded so exactly that no doubt remained on the jeweller's mind.

      "Young man, this watch was sold for ninety dollars by a man named Rufus Turner, who lives in New Orleans, No. 240—— street. I will write to him at once, and find out, if possible, how it came into his possession. I rather think he had some horses here for sale."

      "Did he wear green glasses," inquired Russell of the young man who had purchased the watch.

      "Yes, and had one arm in a sling."

      "I saw such a man here about the time my watch was missing."

      After some directions from Mr. Campbell concerning the proper course to be pursued, Electra drew out her locket, saying—

      "Now, Russell, is not this locket mine?"

      "Yes; but where is the miniature? What are you going to do with it?"

      "The miniature is at home, but I want to sell the frame, and Mr. Brown does not know but that it is another watch case."

      "If it is necessary, I will swear that it belongs lawfully to you; but what do you want to sell it for? I should think you would prize it too highly to be willing to part with it."

      "I do prize the miniature, and would not part with it for any consideration; but I want something far more than a gold case to keep it in."

      "Tell me what you want, and I will get it for you," whispered her cousin.

      "No—I am going to sell this frame."

      "And I am going to buy it from you," said the kind-hearted merchant, taking it from her hand and weighing it.

      Russell and Mr. Campbell left the store, and soon after Mr. Brown paid Electra several dollars for the locket.

      In half an hour she had purchased a small box of paints, a supply of drawing-paper and pencils, and returned home, happier and prouder than many an empress, whose jewels have equalled those of the Begums of Oude. She had cleared Russell's character, and her hands were pressed over her heart to still its rapturous throbbing. Many days elapsed before Mr. Turner's answer arrived. He stated that he had won the watch from Cecil Watson, at a horse-race, where both were betting; and proved the correctness of his assertion by reference to several persons who were present, and who resided in the town. Russell had suspected Cecil from the moment of its disappearance, and now provided with both letter and watch, and accompanied by Mr. Brown, he repaired to Mr. Watson's store. Russell had been insulted, his nature was stern, and now he exulted in the power of disgracing the son of the man who had wronged him. There was no flush on his face, but a cold, triumphant glitter in his eyes as he approached his former employer, and laid watch and letter before him.

      "What business have you here?" growled the merchant, trembling before the expression of the boy's countenance.

      "My business is to clear my character which you have slandered, and to fix the disgrace you intended for me on your own son. I bring you the proofs of his, not my villainy."

      "Come into the back-room; I will see Brown another time," said Watson, growing paler each moment.

      "No, sir; you were not so secret in your dealings with me. Here, where you insulted me, you shall hear the whole truth. Read that. I suppose the twenty-dollar gold piece followed the watch."

      The unfortunate father perused the letter slowly, and smothered a groan. Russell watched him with a keen joy which he might have blushed to acknowledge had he analysed his feelings. Writhing under his impaling eye, Mr. Watson said—

      "Have you applied to the witnesses referred to?"

      "Yes; they are ready to swear that they saw Cecil bet Turner the watch."

      "You did not tell them the circumstances, did you?"

      "No."

      There was an awkward silence, broken by Mr. Watson.

      "If I retract all that I have said against you, and avow your innocence, will it satisfy you? Will you be silent about Cecil?"

      "No!" rose peremptorily to Russell's lips, but he checked it; and the patient teaching of years, his mother's precepts, and his mother's prayers brought forth their first fruit—golden charity.

      "You merit