"Of course you will tell me everything. That is what mothers are for," rejoined Mrs. Pennell. "And now I will take off my silk gown, and you had best smooth your hair and make yourself tidy for supper."
"That sounds like Aunt Deborah," said Ruth laughingly. But as she obeyed her mother's suggestion she thought happily that now Mother was at home everything was sure to go smoothly.
When Gilbert's play was over Mrs. Hastings, although sadly troubled over Betty's "borrowings," and the ruin of her pretty bonnet, complimented Gilbert and Winifred on the success of the play; and not until she had chatted for a few moments with Mrs. Merrill did she go to rescue her valued mantle and the treasured velvet coat. She hoped the English officer's coat was none the worse for its part in the play; and, like Betty, she hoped to return it before it was missed by its rightful owner; for it would be no easy matter to explain why it had been borrowed, and she knew its loss would make serious trouble.
She noticed that her mantle was dusty and wrinkled, and that the lace on the velvet coat was torn. The scarlet coat, however, was not to be found, and Betty had also disappeared.
Deciding that she would find her little daughter and the coat safely at home Mrs. Hastings bade her friends good-bye and started for her walk home. But she did not find Betty there. Supper time came, and still no Betty. A servant was sent to Mrs. Merrill's to inquire for the little girl, but came hurrying back with the tidings that Betty had not been seen since the end of the play.
Mrs. Merrill now looked through every room, but Betty was not to be found. She inquired at the homes of her neighbors, but no one had seen the little girl.
The April twilight deepened to dusk; the stars shone out and found Mrs. Hastings anxious and troubled, for she could find no trace of Betty.
When Betty ran down the alley she had thought it would be an easy matter to reach home with the red coat; but she had forgotten that Philadelphia was full of the King's soldiers, and that a bareheaded little girl racing down the street with the coat of an English officer over her arm would not escape notice; and she had only reached Second Street when a passing soldier called to her. His call only made her run the faster, and the soldier sped after her. If Betty had stopped at once, told her own name and address, and the name of the owner of the coat, the soldier would doubtless have taken her directly home and made sure that she had told him the truth, and it is probable that her troubles would have been at an end. But Betty was now too frightened to think clearly. She did not even know the direction in which she ran was straight away from her home. The English soldier ran clumsily, and Betty, turning quickly into another street, soon distanced him; but only to run straight into another soldier, who seized her firmly by both arms, swung her about, and without a word marched her down the street.
"Making off with an officer's coat," he said, after what seemed a very long time to the frightened girl. "What's your name?"
Betty made no response. She resolved that no one should ever know that Betty Hastings had been suspected of such a dreadful thing as taking what she had no right to take.