She was gone some minutes, and they put more questions, while I hid my face, and said as little as I possibly could. Father seemed very troubled, and so did Mr. Armstrong. It would be a grievous thing, Mr. Armstrong said, if such a theft had taken place. He could not help hoping that I had merely mislaid the watch.
"That don't seem likely either," father said. "Kitty wouldn't let the watch lie about anywhere."
"When did you have it out last, Kitty?" Mr. Armstrong asked.
I could say truly that I had held it in my hands a few days ago. But when Mr. Armstrong questioned whether I was quite sure I had put it safely back, I burst into fresh crying, and couldn't answer him.
Then mother came back, looking downright pale with worry.
"No," she said; "the watch isn't in its right place, nor anywhere else that I can see. We'll have a turn-out of every corner, before I go to bed to-night. But I'm very much afraid—" and she stopped. "Though who could be the thief I haven't a notion."
[CHAPTER VII.]
THE SEARCH.
MOTHER was as good as her word. She didn't leave a corner of the house unsearched. There wasn't a cupboard, nor a drawer, nor a box that she didn't empty. But of course it was no good.
I was poorly enough all the evening to have a good excuse for not helping her. Not being strong, any sort of worry was apt to put me into an ailing state. Nobody wondered that I was worried at the watch being gone: though mother did tell me I needn't cry so every time it was spoken about, or a question was asked me. I couldn't help the crying, for I felt downright miserable; and, besides, it was a sort of protection. If I hadn't cried, I should have had to answer a lot more questions; and so, as was natural, the tears came.