She turned the Black Imp so that he faced the wall and finished the notation in her diary.
It was a few minutes after five when Penny heard the front door bell ring. Thinking that one of her school chums had come to call, she darted down the stairs to answer. The visitor was Mrs. Dillon.
"Why, how do you do," Penny stammered. "Won't you come in?"
She wondered what had brought the woman to the house at such a late hour of the afternoon. A conviction dawned upon her that Mrs. Dillon had learned of the hoax she and Amy had perpetrated in order to see the Rembrandt. She steeled herself for an unpleasant interview.
"Is your father here?" Mrs. Dillon inquired.
"No, Mrs. Dillon. He hasn't returned from the office."
"It's very important that I see him—about my stolen necklace, you know."
A feeling of relief surged over Penny. "Father should be arriving any moment now. Would you care to wait?"
"Yes, I believe I will."
Mrs. Dillon sank wearily into the chair which the girl offered. "I've had such a dreadful day. My beautiful necklace was stolen and the police haven't been able to find a trace of the thief. But then, you know all about it, for you were there."