"I don't know what I wouldn't sooner have had happen," thought Marilla,
as she nervously shelled the peas. "Of course, I don't suppose she meant
to steal it or anything like that. She's just taken it to play with
or help along that imagination of hers. She must have taken it, that's
clear, for there hasn't been a soul in that room since she was in it, by
her own story, until I went up tonight. And the brooch is gone, there's
nothing surer. I suppose she has lost it and is afraid to own up for
fear she'll be punished. It's a dreadful thing to think she tells
falsehoods. It's a far worse thing than her fit of temper. It's a
fearful responsibility to have a child in your house you can't trust.
Slyness and untruthfulness--that's what she has displayed. I declare I
feel worse about that than about the brooch. If she'd only have told the
truth about it I wouldn't mind so much."