“Why, I wanted to tell her about the necklace,” and Harry’s face flushed with his eagerness to get the story off his mind.
“Well, I do declare!” laughed Frank. “Just as though you hadn’t had three or four mortal hours, this very day, to tell it in! I should like to know what you two have been talking about all the time?”
“Plenty of things; but I never once thought of the necklace,” sighed repentant Harry.
“Well! tell me—that will do just as well,” urged Frank.
“No, indeed. I’ll tell no one but the owner of that bit of gold, where I’ve seen it.”
“You’ve never seen my Kate’s gold necklace,” spoke up Frank, indignant, he knew not why, at Harry’s assurance.
“I have, then; and what’s more, I mean to get it back again for her.”
“Tell me how.” Frank had ceased from rocking, and leaned quite near Harry, full of interest and eager with curiosity.
“I’ll tell her,” was all that Harry would say; and soon after that the anxiety regarding Kate arose, and the subject was forgotten.
Later in the afternoon, Grandma Dobson having gone on her little expedition, while Mrs. Hallock sat beside an open window near Harry’s bed, and Kate, on the low stone step outside the front door, was making dandelion curls, and thinking how dreadful it would have been if a big tide had dashed in and surged over the salt meadow and drowned Kate Hallock, Harry remembered the so-oft-forgotten circlet of gold, and he started from his pillow, saying: “I want to tell her now, this minute, before I forget it.”