Chapter Ten.
Peter’s Place.
Leila gasped. For once, her better feelings came to the surface. The enormity of the misfortune aroused her sympathy so fully as to drown every less amiable feeling. Then she pulled herself together.
“It can’t be lost—you were thinking of it all church-time; you couldn’t have carried it carelessly. Feel in your other coat packet.”
Chrissie shook her head.
“No, no,” she said, “I know I didn’t put it in my pocket; and now I remember that the last time I had the feeling of it was in the church porch, when there was all that fuss about the rain and the umbrellas. I dropped it then, or in the street just after, and oh, if it was in the street, it’ll have got soaked in the rain and ruined! And I do believe Auntie cares for it more than anything in the world. It was her grandmother’s. Oh, Leila,” and she clasped her hands in misery.
“Don’t begin crying about it,” said Leila, though not unkindly. “Let’s hunt about a little,” and her eyes wandered round the room. “Mightn’t you have dropped it on the staircase?” She turned towards the door, but Christabel stopped her. “No, no,” she said, “it’s no good. I know now that I didn’t bring it home. And I hear them all coming in, Leila. Don’t seem to be looking for anything.”
“Perhaps we may get it back,” said Leila, who could use her wits to advantage when she aroused herself to give her full attention. “The thing to be done is to ask for it at the church. If we could but get there by ourselves.” Then her eyes turned to the window. “I wonder if it’s going to rain all day.”
A sudden thought struck Christabel.