The girls followed hesitatingly, as Mollie rushed forward and threw her
arms about her mother's neck, crying: "Mother, dear, what is it? Dora
says you have been crying and that you have been telephoning for me all
over. Oh, I wish I had known! We would have run all the way."
"Oh, I suppose a few moments more or less would make no difference. It
wouldn't bring back the silver," said Mrs. Billette, quietly. Hysterics
had given place to a sort of despairing resignation. "Only, at first, I
felt as if I must talk to some one about it. The twins didn't
understand, of course, and I couldn't very well talk to Jane."
"But, Mother, what is it?" Mollie demanded again. "Has Aunt Elvira died
or has Paul caught the mumps, or----"
"Of course not, Mollie! How silly of you," her mother broke in,
impatiently. "Aunt Elvira will probably live another twenty years. And
as for Paul's having the mumps----"
"Then what is it? Have we been robbed?" Mollie's little foot tapped a
sharp tattoo on the floor.
"That is just what has happened to us," said Mrs. Billette, as the girls
stared incredulously.
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