"Well, it's gone, Fred, and it isn't gone; but I know who could help me to find it if I could catch a sight of her."
"And who is that?" asked Fred.
"Elma Lewis."
"Elma Lewis! Do you like her?"
"I can't say that I like her—no I don't think I do; but she would help me, if I could only get to see her."
"Then, do you want me to go to her house and tell her so?"
"Why, Fred, that's a splendid idea. You are a jewel, a darling, a duck!
Let me fetch my hat, and you and I will go together."
"But I don't know my lessons yet. It is that beastly German. I have pages to translate. It is such rot."
"Oh, what does the German matter? Think of the misery poor Laurie is in.
Just stay where you are, Fred; I'll be back in a minute."
Kitty dashed upstairs, two or three steps at a time, and thundered a loud tattoo on the locked door of Alice's bedroom.