Mr. Bolton was a careless, good-humoured young planter, who kept coin loose about his person. He was always joking at Miss Petty, paying her absurd compliments, and laughing at her behind her back because she had the folly to believe them. The young man on receiving her pathetic appeal, dived into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of gold. Miss Petty received it with childish delight, hurried into a neighbouring shop, and after a little while returned rejoicing in the possession of the peacock brooch, which she fastened into her collar.
"But where is your Lammikin, Miss Petty?" inquired Bolton. The question came with startling effect, as if awakening the guardian suddenly from an agreeable dream.
"Where?" she repeated, nervously looking to the right and the left, but neither on the right nor the left was to be seen a trace of Shelah. Miss Petty, absorbed in the purchase of silver and lace, had not given a thought to the restless child whose charge she had undertaken. The guardian was overcome with alarm at missing the baronet's daughter.
Then began a distressing search; Bolton accompanying poor Miss Petty, more for the sake of the fun of the thing than from any intention of giving her help. Theresa interrogated passers-by in English, rushed in and out of shops, and shouted the name of her charge till the street rang, and people stared at the crazy Inglezi.
"Let's get the crier to go about the town," suggested Bolton, laughing: "Lost—a Lammikin, a lively young Lammikin. Reward offered for her recovery—a shilling and a filagree silver brooch!"
"Oh, don't worry me!" exclaimed poor Miss Petty. Her trouble might well invite compassion. She wrung her hands, she cried, she sobbed, then again began asking every one whom she met whether he had seen a red-haired little girl in a scarlet hat.
The heat was great; the paved street reflecting the rays of the sun almost burned Miss Petty's thin boots, and sorely tried her now blistered feet.
"Let's get the crier to go about the town," suggested Bolton,
laughing: "Lost—a Lammikin, a lively young Lammikin. Reward offered
for her recovery—a shilling and a filagree silver brooch!"
At last, when passing the door of a handsome Romanist church, the sound—for the first time welcome—of a child's passionate roar from within broke on the searchers' ears. No one but Shelah could roar like that.