“Tell us just what has happened today, since we left,” urged Mary Louise. “Has anybody been here?”
“No. Not a soul. But Aunt Mattie put me through a lot more questions at lunch, and afterward she gave my room a thorough search. When she found my new clothes, she was more sure than ever that I was the thief. She told me if I didn’t confess everything right away she’d have to change her mind and call the police.”
“Did she call them?” demanded Jane.
“Not yet. It’s lucky for me that she hasn’t a telephone. She said she guessed she’d send William after supper. So you can see how much it meant to me for you girls to come over now!”
Mary Louise nodded gravely, and Jane blushed at her reluctance in wanting to come. If Elsie had gone to jail, it would have been their fault for giving her the clothing!
“When can we see your aunt?” inquired Mary Louise.
“Right now. I’ll go in and tell her. She’s out on the front porch, I think.”
Elsie handed her pan to Hannah and went through the kitchen to the front of the house. She was back again in a moment, telling the girls to come with her.
They found the old lady in her favorite rocking chair, with her knitting in her lap. But she was not working—just scowling at the world in general, and when Elsie came out on the dilapidated porch an expression of pain crossed her wrinkled brows. Whether it was real pain from that trouble in her side which she had mentioned, or whether it was only a miserly grief over the loss of her money, Mary Louise had no way of telling.
“Good-afternoon, Miss Grant,” she said pleasantly. “How is your kitten today?”