Jessie came slowly forward. “No,” she said shyly. “Mother helped me to look. We think he must have fallen down into a hollow stump and has gone way down inside, but mother says she is going to town very soon and she will get you another doll just like it.”
Miss Betty was listening. “Indeed she must not do that, Jessie,” she said. “A little cheap doll like that is no loss, besides it was not you who lost it, but Adele, and her father can easily get another when he goes back to the city.”
“But,” Jessie hesitated, then she turned to Miss Betty. “I want mother to get it so Adele will believe I spoke the truth, that I don’t tell stories.” Jessie held her head high.
Miss Betty looked at Adele. “Why, honey,” she said, “I am sure you never told Jessie that she wasn’t truthful.”
Adele nodded. “Hm, hm, I did, because I thought she might have hidden the doll to tease me and because she didn’t want me to have a Peter Pan.”
“But she has proved that she does want you to have one by asking her mother to replace the one that is lost, and besides, you told me that you were the last one that had the doll.”
Adele rushed at Jessie and flung her arms around her. “Wasn’t I horrid?” she said. “I’ll believe every word you say after this. I suppose you will say,” she whispered, “that Polly always has believed you.”
“Yes,” Jessie nodded, “she certainly does.”
“I don’t care,” returned Adele defiantly. “I believe after all that she is a thief, and that she stole my doll.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Miss Betty. “You both look as fierce as turkey-cocks.”