“Well, if you’ll believe me,” Sallie gave a sheepish giggle. “I found ’em that self-same night, tucked away under the best towels in the linen closet, where I’d hid ’em for better safety. I knew I’d tucked them under something—somewheres!”
“Well, well,” said Aunt Eunice, much relieved. “It’s fortunate, Sallie, that the Judge hadn’t called in the constable.”
“Ah, but there’s more to it than that,” Sallie went on mysteriously. “There’s a lot of things gone from this room and never been found yet. I wouldn’t have called it to your mind, like the Judge told me not to, only you’re bound to miss ’em. The silver things are gone from the desk, an’ the old snuff-box, an’——”
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Cousin Penelope spoke, in the cool, aloof voice that no one knew better how to use. “I put a lot of knick-knacks away for safe keeping in that deep drawer in the hall closet. It was the morning we left, when the car was at the door. And Sallie never discovered they were missing, until the house was re-opened.” Cousin Penelope smiled wintrily. “Really, Sallie, you must have done the parlor very hastily on the morning when we left for the beach.”
What a way Cousin Penelope had of catching you in your own avowals and putting you in the wrong! And if she could look like judgment seats, just because poor Sallie had hurried her work on the day when she, too, was going on a vacation, what would she look like, when she found out, as so soon she must find out, that Caroline was really a little impostor? At the mere thought Caroline put down her strip of crumbly toast untasted.
She was glad that the knocker at the front door went clang that very minute—glad for Sallie, who could cover her flushed embarrassment by hurrying to the door—glad for herself, because her sudden loss of appetite went unnoticed in the excitement that the prospect of a visitor seemed most surprisingly to create.
“Oh,” cried Aunt Eunice, in genuine agitation. “It can’t possibly be—so soon!”
“Probably it’s Judge Holden,” Cousin Penelope spoke calmly. “A most unseasonable time to call.”
“They’re not coming in!” said Aunt Eunice, with marked relief. She actually had turned in her chair, and sat with her anxious face toward the wide doorway that led into the hall. “It was foolish of me to be startled—of course it couldn’t be——”
“Perhaps it’s Jackie!” Caroline’s heart beat fast, and a little guiltily, as she said the words to herself. “Perhaps she’s come to ask me to change—right now.”