It was luncheon time then, and the girls went downstairs together, with no disclosures of their suspicions of each other.
At the luncheon table the subject was freely discussed.
Dolly explained to Mrs. Berry that, after she had telephoned she was going home, she felt that it was a cowardly thing to do, and that she ought to remain and see the matter through.
"You see," Dolly said, smiling, "it was a sudden temptation, when I got to the station, to go home. Just the sight of the ticket office, and the train gates, gave me a wave of homesickness and I wanted to see Mother so terribly, that I thought I'd just go. But as soon as I'd telephoned, I realised that I oughtn't to do it, so I came right back here. I didn't telephone I'd changed my mind, for I thought I'd be here so soon. Mrs. Berry, what do you think became of the earring?"
"I don't know, I'm sure, my dear. I don't think I could ever believe that any one of you girls took it with any wrong intent. Did one of you just borrow it? To study it as a curio or anything like that?"
"No!" cried Bernice. "That's absurd. If I'd wanted to do that I should have asked Uncle's permission."
"Of course you would," and good Mrs. Berry sighed at the undoubted fallacy of her theory.
It was during luncheon that the telephone bell rang, and Geordie Knapp invited the girls to a matinee at the Hippodrome.
"They must come," he said to Mrs. Berry, who had answered his call. "Please let them. It's a big party. We've three boxes; my mother is going with us, and all the rest are young people. I know your girls will like it."
"Of course they will," Mrs. Berry replied. "I'll be glad to have them go. Wait; I'll ask them."