"I don't know," sobbed Bessie, "never, I 'spect. Seems to me I grow worse and worse. I don't believe I shall be half as good when I am ten as I am now when I'm only nine. I wish I had never gone nutting, and then this would not have happened."
"No," said her mother, smiling, "it never would, for then in all probability you would not have met and become friendly with our good Mr. Dart. Don't make rash wishes, my little Bess, because you are vexed."
"Oh, now I know," cried Bessie, as if struck with a sudden idea, "I put the nuts in that drawer, mother, for safety. Before that they were lying spread out to dry on the floor, over by that barrel. I remember thinking that they were thinning out pretty fast, and that the rats must have carried some away. I thought that if I put them in the drawer they would last until I used them up."
"Well," said her mother, "that betters the case a little; but still I must insist that you could have found many more appropriate places. If you had put them in the barrel it would have been far better than among your spools, and I do not know but that it would have been quite as safe."
Bessie's mother went up to the barrel in question, as she spoke, and scarcely knowing what she was doing, shoved it a little with her foot. It was empty, and yielded easily. This change in its position brought to view the space between it and the wall, and there, what did Bessie and her mother see but a nice little pile of hickory nut-shells!
Bessie uttered an exclamation and sprang forward. She took up two or three, and found that a hole had been neatly nibbled in each and the meat subtracted.
"I told you so," she said sorrowfully, letting the shells drop slowly back to the pile; "now I know why my nuts disappeared so fast. I thought at first that Nathan must have helped himself to a few, when he has been here. He often runs up stairs to get something or other to play with, when he stays the whole afternoon, and I guessed the nuts had tempted him. Poor Nathan! I ought to have known better."
Bessie's mother stooped and examined every shell in the pile.
"Perhaps," said she, "master rat has carried off the Madeira too."
"Oh, I hope so," cried the little girl; "do you see any of the pieces of it, mother? He could not harm the money you know, and that is what I care most about getting back."