Very gingerly she pulled aside the torn pieces of paper, and disclosed to view four little atoms not much bigger than bluebottles.
“Baby mice!” squealed the girls.
“Shame to disturb them, but I’ve got to examine their cradle. Ah! what d’you make of this, now? If it isn’t a piece of a ten-shilling note, I’ll—I’ll swallow the babies!”
“You are most undoubtedly right!” declared Miss Beasley, picking up the shreds of paper and trying to piece them together. “The mouse must have taken them out of the drawer to help to build her nest.”
“Rather an expensive nursery!” chuckled Violet. “Well, I guess we’ve proved who’s the thief, anyway!”
“I am extremely obliged to you,” said Miss Beasley. “But for you, the matter might always have remained a mystery.”
“And please forgive me for interfering. It was cheek, I know, to turn up in the attic, but I couldn’t resist the secret passage. I think this old place must be ripping as a school. I want to come next term. We’d intended to go home to New York in September, but Dad heard this morning he’d have 288 to stay here another couple of years on business, so he said he guessed I’d best settle down and learn to be a Britisher. Would you have me here?”
“That depends on whether your father wishes to send you to me or not.”
“Oh! Dad’ll let me do anything I like, so it’s as good as settled. I’ll arrive with my boxes in September. Look here, it’s cheek again, but will you please not scold Raymonde for all this affair? It was mostly my fault.”
“Raymonde had no business to change places with you, and go to the village without leave,” said Miss Beasley, eyeing her pupil reprovingly. “But I think she has been punished enough. She may take you downstairs now, and ask Cook to give you some cake and a glass of milk before you cycle home again.”