"No such luck, I am afraid," said Arthur. "But I'll try and persuade my sister to call and see her to-morrow, and then we shall hear all about it."
"Very well, we must let that do for the present, then, and see to our work," said Mr. Bristow.
And Arthur took the hint, and settled down to his usual employment until dinner-time. The incident of the missing letter had almost passed from his mind when he found himself in the tailoring department once more and Mr. Langley asked him if he had been able to find the letter.
"Oh! I beg your pardon for not coming to tell you that I have turned out everything I have got up there, and cannot find it. Can you do anything with my coat?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes, the foreman thinks he can make a very good job of it. He would like you to go to the workroom as you return from dinner, and then he will be able to fit it on you. He thinks he can make it a very good fit. I wish we could trace that letter, though," he added in a more serious tone. "Lady Mary will—"
"Don't I know it!" laughed Arthur, interrupting him. "Won't she make them sit up at the post office when she hears we haven't got her precious letters!"
Mr. Langley looked at Arthur in dumb amazement. "This is no laughing matter for me, Murray," he said. "You forget there was money in the lost letter, as well as an order, and she is one of our most particular customers."
"Oh, yes, I know her!" said Arthur lightly. Then, seeing how serious Mr. Langley looked, he added: "Of course I am very sorry the letter cannot be found, and I hope it will turn up in one of Lady Mary's pockets. But I don't see why we should trouble our heads with it. The post office must have lost it, if ever she posted it, and it wouldn't be the first time she has left a letter in her pocket instead of putting it into the pillar-box. Don't worry, Mr. Langley; there is no accounting for what Lady Mary may do."
When Arthur fitted his coat on, a little later in the day, he was greatly pleased with it. They had been able to lengthen the sleeves and let it out at the seams, so that it fitted him as easily and comfortably as a new coat could have done, and he went home in the evening to tell his sisters that he had found Molly's plan of turning old clothes into new ones had answered admirably.
Molly clapped her hands with delight at the announcement. "I am glad I thought of it," she said, "for we shall be able to please Mamma with a smart 'new-old' dressing-gown at the cost of a few shillings at the most. Really, it is quite interesting to be poor, when it sets your wits to work to make the best of things you have got, instead of buying new ones."