"Barrette," murmured Jack, in dazed tones.
"Yes—a sort of side comb, only it goes in the back."
"Well, it looked just like a centipede trying to hide under the bureau," Jack defended himself. "Is it much damaged?"
"Damaged? It's utterly ruined," sighed Cora. "Never mind, Jack, you meant all right," and she smiled at her brother.
"Oh, dear! I don't believe I'm going to like it here, even if the waters are such a heavenly blue."
"What was it—another?" demanded Belle.
"It was my barrette, my dear," laughed Cora.
"Come, young folks! You must quiet down," came the voice of Cora's mother from the next room. "What's all the excitement about?"
"Just—insects," said Jack, with a chuckle. "We are hunting the deadly barretted side comb!"
"You'll have to get me another," said Cora, as she bade Jack good-night.