Betty forestalled the maid on her way to the portal with a merry: "I'll
go, Mary. It's probably one of the girls."
It was not one of the girls only, but all three of them, and seemingly
in the wildest excitement.
"Oh, Betty, Betty!" Mollie cried, not even stopping to say "hello."
"Have you heard the news--have you?"
"No, it's so early----" began Betty, but Grace interrupted her.
"But it isn't half as bad as what happened to us," she said, sinking
into a porch chair and fanning herself violently, being overcome either
by the heat or her emotions--possibly both. "Why! dad's running around
the house like a mad man this morning, swearing all sorts of vengeance
on the thief, whoever he or she is--I suppose it must be a he, though,
because women don't steal----"
"Hold on, hold on a minute," commanded Betty, her hands over her ears.
"How _do_ you expect me to find out what has happened if you won't come
to the point?"
"Well, I was going to tell you if you'd only have a little patience,"
Grace continued, in an injured voice. Here she paused to put into her
mouth a chocolate cream, which she had taken from a little box she had
brought with her.
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