"What nonsense is all this!" said Mr. Franklin. "I am thoroughly disappointed in you, Edith."
"I don't know why you should be, papa. I have nothing to do with it. If the Gordons had not come here this would never have happened. The money would not be missing, you wouldn't have had the letters from Tony Bronson, and I—oh, I would have been so much happier!"
"If you are not happy, it is entirely your own fault," said her father, sternly. "Now let me hear no more of these absurd notions of yours. I have too much to think of that is of more importance."
Edith wanted to cry, but she controlled herself. She was to drive with her father over to Upper Falls, where he had to attend to some business, and now she had made him seriously angry, she knew. She swallowed the lumps that rose in her throat, and presently she managed to speak on some indifferent subject; but her father made no reply, and they soon turned in at Oakleigh gates. Janet, the small, quiet person on the back seat, could scarcely wait to get home. She must find Neal at once.
But Neal was not easily to be found. She trotted up to his room, but he was not there. She went to the cellar stairs and called, but Neal had neglected his duties of late as partner in the poultry business; in fact, he had retired altogether, and the eggs reposed there alone. Janet was not allowed to descend the stairs because of her misdemeanors last year.
She went to the workshop, but all was quiet. Looking out from the upper window, however, she spied Bob in the pasture; perhaps Neal was with him. She went down and unfastened the big gate that opened into the barn-yard.
Country child though she was, Janet was sorely afraid of venturing through the barn-yard alone. Were there any pigs there? Yes, there were a great many. Janet detested pigs, ugly-looking creatures! And there were some cows also, and she had on her red jacket. She promptly laid it aside and made a bold rush through the yard.
On the whole, she rather enjoyed the excitement. She was alone, for Willy had gone to Boston with her mother, and Cynthia and Jack were at school. Janet felt herself enjoying an unlooked-for holiday owing to the illness of her teacher, and she was about to fulfil the proverb which tells of the occupation that is found for idle hands to do, though in this case it was an idle tongue.
The dangers of the barn-yard overcome, Janet pursued her way along the cart-road that led to the far meadow, and there, sitting on a rock near the river, she found the object of her search. He was whittling a boat while he pondered moodily about his affairs.
"Neal, Neal!" she called, breathless from excitement and haste, "I want to speak to you. What have you done with my present?"