“After the master was good enough to take you in—this is how you repay him!” Mrs. Medlock said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a string of pearls. Mary’s heart dropped. The pearls! She’d meant to put them back in the secret room, but she’d forgotten.

“I . . . I . . .” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to take them.”

Mrs. Medlock glared at her furiously. “The master is waiting!” she snapped.

Mary was marched to the house, her mind racing. She had to make her uncle believe she had never intended to keep the pearls. Surely he would listen and understand? But as Mrs. Medlock pulled her up the stone steps and into the entrance hall, she saw her uncle standing on the staircase, and his face was terrible. Fury flashed in his eyes.

“So you found her, Mrs. Medlock?”

Mrs. Medlock gave a triumphant nod. “Messing around on the grounds. Look at the state of her.”

“Bring her upstairs,” ordered Mr. Craven, setting off up the staircase.

“Uncle . . . sir.” Mary tried to tear her arm away from Mrs. Medlock, but the housekeeper’s fingers gripped tightly. “I didn’t mean to take the pearls. I was going to put them back.”

“Where did you find them?” he demanded.

Mary hesitated. She had a feeling that if she said she had been in Aunt Grace’s room that would get her in even more trouble. “Under a floorboard,” she lied.

“Which floorboard?”

“I . . . I can’t remember.” Tears prickled Mary’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You understand these pearls mean something to me?” her uncle barked.

Mary nodded unhappily.

“She’s been everywhere, sir,” broke in Mrs. Medlock. “To the boy too. When I went into his room this morning, his chair had moved. It was that that aroused my suspicions, and so I checked her room and discovered the pearls.”

“My son? She’s found my son?” His eyes bored into Mrs. Medlock, Mary temporarily forgotten. “Have we just given her full run of the house, Mrs. Medlock?” he said incredulously.

“I warned you, sir, what a young girl could be like. Yes, I did,” Mrs. Medlock said.

Mr. Craven looked back at Mary. “Was it not explained to you that you were to stay away from the parts of the house that were not yours to roam in?”

“Colin is my friend. . . .” Mary’s voice faltered. “I just thought . . . if I could excite him about life then . . . then . . .”

“You stupid child!” exclaimed her uncle. “He is weak. Your excitement could kill him!”

“I . . . I didn’t know. I was just trying to make things better.” Mary realized they were heading toward Aunt Grace’s room. Her heart started to pound. “Where are you taking me?”