“What happened to her?” asked Pell.
“How can I tell?” sighed Nora. “I have done everything to find out. I have even had Cousin Ted drive me around the big farms hoping to get a glimpse of her, but I never saw any one who even looked like her. Then, I haven’t told you the most pathetic part,” she paused again. “The last day I went to fetch her a lovely piece of pie, you know I used to put food in a big tin box Vita gave me; well, there was all that I had left the day before. Of course, I was awfully disappointed and I felt so—sorry I had not told you girls——”
“If you had, Nora,” said Miss Beckwith, gently, “we might have found a way to help the child.”
“I know that, Becky, and I am telling this now partly to——”
“Ease your conscience,” prompted Pell.
“Yes; I don’t want any more secrets. They are more worry than they can possibly be worth,” said Nora tritely.
“You were telling us about the box,” prompted Alma.
“Oh, yes; but I must hurry, I have to go home very soon. It is time the folks were back.”
“Tell us the rest and we won’t interrupt once,” promised Wyn in a contrite tone, and she seemed to mean it.
“I found a little paper bouquet in the box,” Nora continued. “And a scribbled bit of paper.”