Two or three of the girls went into the hall to look for the missing umbrella, and others went back to Fraulein’s room with her to make a more exhaustive search. But without success.
“Have you more than one?” asked Edith.
“No, it is but one I haf got. It is very funnee,” and poor Fraulein looked sorely perplexed.
“Take mine, Fraulein. Yours will turn up when you least expect it,” said Toinette.
“What did it look like, Fraulein?” asked Cicely.
“Chust like thees,” was the astonishing answer, as absent-minded Fraulein held forth the missing umbrella, which all that time she had held tightly clasped in her hand, and which had been the cause of Edith’s question as to whether she had more than one, for she supposed, of course, that the one Fraulein was so tightly holding must either be one she did not care to carry, or else one she was about to return to someone from whom she had probably borrowed it.
The shout which was raised at her reply speedily brought poor Fraulein back to her senses, and murmuring:
“Ach, so! I think I come veruckt,” she hurried off down the hall with the girls’ laughter still ringing in her ears.