"On—on—the t-table," stammered Dolly, trying to stop crying. But, as every one knows, it is not an easy thing to stem a flood of tears, and Dolly couldn't speak clearly.
"Yes; what table?"
"This one," and Dotty spoke for her, and indicated the table by the south window.
"Where,—on the table?" persisted Uncle Jeff.
Dolly got up and walked over to the light stand in question.
"About here, I think," and she indicated a spot on the surface of the dull finished wood.
"Why didn't you hand it back to me?" queried Mr. Forbes, in a kind tone.
"I d-don't know, sir," Dolly sobbed again. "I'm sure I don't know why I didn't."
"I know," put in Dotty. "Because just then, Mr. Forbes showed us a bracelet that had belonged to Cleopatra, and we all crowded round to look at that, and Doll laid down the earring to take up the bracelet. We didn't suppose we were going to be accused of stealing!"
"Tut, tut," said Mr. Forbes. "Nobody has used that word! I don't accuse you of anything,—except carelessness."