Professor Ladue talked much nonsense in the next half-hour and was surprisingly gay; and Sally sat, holding her mother's hand, and smiling and chuckling and enjoying it intensely. Of course Mrs. Ladue enjoyed it. The professor seemed so genial and care-free that she reproached herself for her doubts. She even thought, unfortunately, that it was a favorable time for asking for something that she was very much in need of. But she hesitated, even then.
"Charlie," she said timidly, as they were going, "can you—can you let me have this week's money for the house? Katie, you know,—we owe her for two weeks, and there's the—"
Professor Ladue interrupted her. "Money?" he said airily. "Money? What's money? Certainly, my dear. Help yourself. You're welcome to anything you find there."
He tossed her his pocketbook and turned back to his skeleton. Perhaps it was to hide some embarrassment; perhaps it was only to indicate that, so far as he was concerned, the incident was closed. For the pocketbook was empty.
Mrs. Ladue spoke low and tried hard to keep any hint of reproach out of her voice. "Did you—did you lose it?" she asked.
"I suppose I must have lost it, if there was anything to lose," Professor Ladue replied nonchalantly. He did not turn away from his work.
"And—and did you notify the police?"
"No, my dear, I have not notified the police, yet." He smiled dryly as he spoke. "I will take that matter under advisement."
Mrs. Ladue did not push the question further. There were tears in her eyes as she joined Sally.
"Oh, mother," cried Sally joyously, "wasn't it fun? Did you ever know that father could be so funny?"