“It must have fallen to the floor,” said he.
“Why, yes, we never thought of looking there, did we?” And she followed him through another 209 tour of the room, turning her averted head from side to side in pretendedly ranging the floor with her eyes.
“I know,” he said, with the elation of a new conjecture. “It must be behind something!”
Miss Sally gasped, but in an instant recovered herself sufficiently to say:
“Of course. It surely must be—behind something.”
Harry went and looked behind the spinet, then examined the small spaces between other objects and the wall. This search was longer than any he had made before, as some of the pieces of furniture had to be moved slightly out of position.
Miss Sally felt her proximity to the object of this search becoming unendurable. She therefore profited by Peyton’s present occupation to conduct pretended endeavors towards the closet west of the fireplace. She noiselessly opened one of the narrow doors, quickly tossed the hat inside, closed the door, and turned with ineffable relief towards Peyton.
To her consternation she found him looking at her.
“What are you doing there?” he asked.
“Why,—looking in this closet,” she stammered, guiltily.