The girls scampered back, to find their fears true. Patricia’s pretty bits of jewelry, as well as Polly’s pansy pin, were gone. They were distressed over their loss, but their excitement was a small part of that throughout the hotel.
The authorities were not long in placing the charge. The men who had accompanied Harold from the railway wreck had vanished, and although they were traced to a neighboring town, there they seemed to be utterly lost.
Perhaps nobody grieved more than did Polly.
“And the man was so pleasant to me!” she mourned. “To think he should go and steal my pretty pin—Chris’s present!”
The occurrence actually made her homesick, and she longed for the day when her month should be up. It had been arranged for her to travel in company with an elderly gentleman who must pass through Fair Harbor on his way home, and she would have hoped that his business would hasten his going, only that she had promised the entire month in return for the fifty dollars.
The day was finally set, but nothing was said about the price of her visit, and Polly grew anxious and perturbed. What if Patricia had forgotten! What if she should not get the money after all! To be sure, the month had been for the most part pleasant, still the loss of her precious pin was enough to make her hate the name of Midvale Springs. Now if she had gained not even the amount of the coal bill by coming! By the last night Polly was in a fever; she could not sleep, while her irresponsible bedfellow lay beside her like a little log.
Shortly before breakfast, Polly, dressed for her journey, appeared in Mrs. Illingworth’s room, and with a pleasant good-morning was on her way to the hall, when the lady stopped her.
“Wait a moment, dear!”
Polly turned, to see Patricia’s mother opening her purse. Her heart leaped in sudden joy. She had been blaming Patricia for neglect, but now she silently begged her pardon.
“Run and get your hand-bag,” Mrs. Illingworth smiled, “I want to put something into it.”