Jennie did not reply, but smoothed out the wrinkled notes with many a loving pat.
"What did grandma say?" asked Dotty; "wasn't she pleased?"
"Your grandmother doesn't know anything about it, Dotty Dimple; what business is it to her?"
Jennie's tone was defiant. She assumed a courage she was far from feeling.
Dotty was speechless with surprise, but her eyes grew as round as soap-bubbles.
"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, and never did. They never came out of any of her dresses—now did they?"
Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles ready to burst.
"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a thief."
"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into the rag-bag—now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if it hadn't been for my sharp eyes—now wouldn't it?"
"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance—because it don't belong to you."