"Yes, ma'am, it was there. I saw it. I left it on the cloth."
Eleanor stared too, though she did not grow red.
"Yes," she said, "it was there. I took it up again, but I'm sure I did nothing with it."
Nevertheless a diving process into her pocket ensued—in vain; then she got up and shook herself; then everybody began creeping and crawling about on the floor—in vain; then Mark got down a candle under the table, thereby, as it was in a high silver candle-stick, nearly setting everything on fire; then—then—I need not describe the well-known and most disagreeable experience of hunting for a lost object, which of course
"ere it comes to light,
We seek in every corner but the right."
On the whole poor Henry had the worst of it. He was told to examine "my tray," and to overhaul "my pantry," from top to bottom, which he did with no result. I think he would gladly have gone down the drain-pipe leading from "my sink," if he could have got into it.
"It is an uncomfortable affair," said Nelly's mother gravely. "You see the young man has so newly come."
"But, mother, I am sure I saw it after the dessert was on the table, and the servants out of the room," said Eleanor eagerly.
"Then, my dear, where is it?"
You can fancy what an unsettled, spoilt evening it was. The ladies went upstairs at last, but Mark would not give in. He stayed in the dining-room by himself, searching like a detective. Suddenly there came a shout of triumph.