“Could anybody have left it at school, for you?” asked papa.
“No, I’m sure no one did this morning. Some one left a note a long time ago, but,—” Cricket stopped suddenly, in dismay.
“Exactly, my dear,” said papa, dryly. “It was a long time ago—just one week.”
“Mamma!” cried Cricket, “didn’t I ever give you that note? Is this the same one?”
“The very same. How did you not happen to find it before?”
Cricket looked down at her dress.
“Why, Cricket!” exclaimed Eunice. “You haven’t had that dress on for a long time. You tore the ruffle last week, and you were waiting for Eliza to mend it.”
“That is it, then,” said mamma. “Now, do you know what you have done? The note was given you last Wednesday. You put it in your pocket, and did not think of it again. You found it to-day, and did not even know how it got in your pocket.”
“I thought it was queer,” murmured Cricket.
“You gave me the note this morning. It was dated simply ‘Wednesday,’ so of course I never doubted it had just been given you.”