“In ve was’e-bastick,” said the child; “I can always have what’s in ve was’e-basticks. Muvver said I could.”
“Yes, of course you can. That’s all right. But lend this dolly to Betty, won’t you? Just for a little while?”
“Ess, I will,” and the child gave it up willingly enough.
Back ran Betty with her prize.
“There!” she cried, triumphantly waving the five-dollar doll above her head. “I told you Martha didn’t know anything about Maude’s money. It must have blown from the table into the waste-basket, and Bobby picked it out.”
“Oh—I do—remember!” said Maude, slowly, “the waste-basket was upset when I came home! So I looked through all the scraps carefully, but of course I didn’t find it. I’m awfully sorry, Martha,—truly I am,—more sorry than I can say! I don’t suppose you can ever forgive me.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” said Martha, smiling through her tears.
“I’m going to forgive you, too, Maude,” said Betty; “but it will take me a little while. I am afraid it will be half an hour before I can feel toward you as if you hadn’t done this.”
“I don’t wonder,” said Maude, contritely; “but, Betty, I didn’t know Martha as you did, and it did look queer.”
“Yes, that’s so,” conceded Betty. “I think I’ll get over it in a quarter of an hour.”