Matilda knew at once what Comfort meant. “You ain't!” she cried, stopping short and opening wide eyes of dismay at Comfort over the red tippet.
“Yes, I have.”
“Where'd you lose it?”
“I felt of my pocket after I got back to school yesterday, after we'd been up to the old Loomis house, and I couldn't find the ring.”
“My!” said Matilda.
Comfort gave a stifled sob.
Matilda turned short around with a jerk. “Le'ss go up that road and hunt again,” said she; “there's plenty of time before the bell rings. Come along, Comfort Pease.”
So the two little girls went up the road and hunted, but they did not find the ring. “Nobody would have picked it up and kept it; everybody around here is honest,” said Matilda. “It's dreadfully funny.”
Comfort wept painfully under the folds of her mother's green shawl as they went back.
“Did your mother scold you?” asked Matilda. There was something very innocent and sympathizing and honest about Matilda's black eyes as she asked the question.