Half an hour later, as the guests were being served with supper under the trees, Ruth and Barbara made their appearance.
“We just couldn’t keep away any longer,” they explained to their friends. “Oh, yes, we are feeling perfectly well again.”
Barbara called Mrs. Cartwright aside for a minute. “Is it true,” she asked, “that your diamond butterfly has disappeared?”
Mrs. Cartwright’s face clouded. “Yes,” she replied. “It has gone within the last hour or so. I had it fastened here on my dress with a long pin. If it was stolen by a guest, which I am coming to believe, then it was not such a difficult theft. I have been leaning over, laughing and talking, and any light-fingered—woman—or man—could easily have taken it out of my dress.”
Mrs. Cartwright shivered and turned pale, as she looked at the gay parties of people out on her lawn. “Isn’t it dreadful,” she said, plaintively, “to think that there may be a thief right over there among all my friends! But run along, now, child, and enjoy yourself. You and Ruth were the success of the afternoon. Everyone has asked me where I found my clever gypsies.”
Barbara wandered off alone. Before she had gone more than a few steps, Ralph Ewing joined her. “Please don’t come with me, Ralph,” she begged. “I want to find Mollie.”
“Well, why should that prevent my coming along, too?” Ralph asked. “I’d like to find Mollie myself. She hasn’t paid the slightest attention to me all afternoon.”
“I don’t want to be horrid, Ralph,” Barbara protested, nervously, “but please let me find her by myself.”
“Oh, certainly,” assented Ralph, walking quickly away.
Over by one of the lemonade stands that had been deserted at supper time Bab found Mollie.