“Where did you lose it?” asked the woman.
“I don't k—n—o—w,” sobbed Comfort.
“Well, you'd better go right home and tell your mother about it,” said the stout woman, and went her way with many backward glances.
Matilda dragged her sled to Comfort's side and eyed her dubiously.
“Why didn't you get the ring when we were right there with the gold dollar?” she demanded. “What made you run out of Gerrish's that way?”
“I'm—go—ing—home,” sobbed Comfort.
“Ain't you going to wait and ride in the stage coach?”
“I'm—going—right—home.”
“Imogen said to go in the stage-coach. I don't know as mother'll like it if we walk. Why didn't you get the ring, Comfort Pease?”
“I don't want—any—ring. I'm going home—to—tell—my mother.”