"The money you dropped out of your porte-monnaie, yesterday, was Prudy's, not yours; and what are you going to do about it?"
"Let me see; my mother'll come to-morrow; I'll ask her to give me some more."
"But is that right? Dotty lost the money; must not Dotty be the one to give it back?"
"O, grandma, I can't find it! The wind blew it away, or a horse stepped on it. I can't find it, certainly."
"No; but you have money of your own. You can give some of that to Prudy."
"Why-ee!" moaned Dotty. "Prudy's got ever so much. O, grandma, she has; and my box is so empty it can't but just jingle."
"But, my dear, that has nothing to do with the case. If Prudy has a great deal of money, you have no right to lose any of it. Don't you think you ought to give it back?"
"O, no, grandma—I don't; because she doesn't need it! I wish she'd give me ten cents, for I do need it; I haven't but a tinty, tonty mite."
Here Dotty threw herself on the sofa, the picture of despair. Grandma was perplexed. Had she been pouring ideas into Dotty's mind too fast? What should she say next?
"My dear little girl, suppose Prudy should lose some of your money—what then?"