Polly stopped short in her search and looked up at Theresa with a new terror in her eyes. “What—what do you mean?” she stammered. “Why should I be frightened—and ashamed? It wasn’t my fault! I tried to be careful. Why should they turn me out?”
“Because, silly! That’s why,” replied the maid sourly. “If you don’t hand that bag over to Miss Cicely right away she’ll think hard things of you. She’ll say you’re careless and not to be trusted. Oh, dear, there is no knowing what she will say and do, she’ll be so angry at the loss of that much money. I wouldn’t risk it, if I were you. I’d run away before they found out.”
Polly gasped painfully. “It isn’t my fault,” she repeated, sobbing. “I have tried to be careful, I have, really and truly. I don’t think Miss Cissy will think those things of me you say she will, but—but—even if she does, I can’t run away. It wouldn’t be right to run away. If I can’t find the bag and she blames me, I’ll have to—to tell her all about it and stand it, somehow.”
Theresa gave a sharp laugh. “Well, do as you please,” she cried harshly. “It’s none of my business, I’m sure. But I can tell you this much, you won’t find your bag, and you will be blamed, so there! You’re mighty brave and courageous now, but wait till you’re turned out in disgrace, and then see how you’ll feel. I guess you’ll wish you had taken my advice then. Listen to me! if you want, I’ll hide you in my room to-night, and to-morrow morning I’ll smuggle you out of the house as quiet as a mouse, and no one will ever be the wiser. I’ll slip you down to the station, and you can go to your sister in the cars, and—and——”
For a moment Polly saw herself as Theresa pictured her: blamed, disgraced, turned out of this home maybe, where every one had been so kind to her, and it seemed as if she could not face it.
“Will you do as I say?” demanded Theresa eagerly, catching her by the arm.
Polly gave a quick, low sob and shook her head.
Theresa released her hold with sudden violence, turned short round upon her heel and, without another word, strode toward the house. Polly looked after her with misery and despair in every line of her pale little face. Then she fell to searching again, feeling about blindly along every inch of the spot where she had fallen. But still the bag could not be found. Time was flying, and Theresa had said if she did not return the money at once they would think hard things of her. She could not believe it! She could not bear it! She struggled to her feet and tried to gather her wits together. What should she do? What would sister tell her to do if she were here and knew the truth. Suddenly Polly gave a little gasp of joy and flew toward the house as fast as her feet would carry her. She had found a way out of her trouble, and her heart beat so quick with the relief of it, that it almost took her breath away. Up into the nursery she ran, and to her own particular little table upon which her bank stood. It was so heavy with money it would hardly rattle, and every cent of it was her very own by right, to do with as she chose. But how was she to get at the money? The bank was locked and she had given sister the key. She twisted and tugged at it fiercely, but only a stray copper or nickle slipped through the opening in the top, and at this rate it would take her all night to shake out the rest. She thought of James. James would help her! James was a good friend of hers. She flew down-stairs like a small whirlwind, and surprised the butler as he stood in the front doorway, watching the gaieties outside and resting for a moment from his labors. He heard her out patiently, though she was so excited her words came in gasps, and she made confusing work of her story.
“So you fell and hurt yourself, and lost your bag of change, eh?” he commented. “Well, I declare, that’s rare hard luck, it is! No mistake! And you want me to open this affair and get the money out of it to make up for what you lost? Well, you’re a real up-and-down square one, you are. Now just you wait. I’ve a big ring of keys down-stairs, and I’ll bring it up and see if we can’t fit one into this lock, and if we can’t—why!——”
He did not wait to explain what would happen then but ran quickly below and before many minutes was back again and trying one key after another into the obstinate lock that absolutely refused to be fitted. Polly, at his side, twisted and jerked with impatience and excitement, and when at last James shook his head and said with a sigh: “It’s no use! there ain’t one in the whole lot that’ll do,” she almost broke into crying again.