“Mrs. Halbridge?” The old gentleman bowed in a most courtly style. “One of our customers, I presume, Mr. Mink?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Schuman,” the floorwalker hastened to say. “One of our very good customers. And I am so sorry that anything should have happened——”
“But what has happened?” asked Mr. Schuman, sharply.
“She—she accuses this—it’s all a mistake, I’m sure—this young lady of taking her bag,” stuttered Mr. Mink, pointing to Tavia.
“She ought to be arrested,” muttered the excited Mrs. Halbridge.
“What? But this is a matter for the superintendent’s office, Mr. Mink,” returned Mr. Schuman.
“Oh!” stammered the floorwalker. “The bag is returned.”
“And now,” put in Dorothy Dale, haughtily, and looking straight and unflinchingly into the keen eyes of Mr. Schuman, “my friend wishes to know what has become of her bag?”
Mr. Schuman looked at the two girls with momentary hesitation.
There was something compelling in the ladylike look and behaviour of these two girls—and especially in Dorothy’s speech. At the moment, too, a hand was laid tentatively upon Mr. Schuman’s arm.