perfectly dreadful thing! The plainer it was that the locket could not be found, the more repentent and distracted Betty became.
"I shall have to tell Uncle Dick—I shall have to," she wailed, when Bob drove them away from the last place and all hope was gone glimmering. "Oh, dear! It is dreadful."
"Don't take on so, Betty!" Bob begged gruffly, for he could not bear to see the girl actually cry. "I'll tell him if you are afraid to."
"Don't you dare!" she flared out at him. "I'm not afraid. Only I dread it. It was the nicest present he ever gave me and—and I loved it. But I did not take proper care of it. I realize that now, when it is too late."
Bob remained serious of aspect after that. That his mind was engaged with the problem of Betty's lost trinket was proved by what he said on the way back to Fairfields:
"I suppose you spoke to all the clerks you traded with in those stores, Betty?"
"Why, yes. All but Ida Bellethorne, Bob."
"And Mrs. Staples said she didn't know anything about Betty's locket," Bobby put in.
Of course, this was not so; but Bobby thought she was telling the exact truth. The two girls really had not explained Betty's loss to Mrs. Staples at all.
"The English girl going off so suddenly, and
