it was with a much brighter smile than ordinary that she
welcomed the truants, and was disappointed to have her greeting so
dejectedly returned.

"I began to worry over you, my dears, I cannot call either of you really
mischievous, yet I hope you won't leave me in suspense so long again.
Anywhere, so that you are in my sight all of the time, you are free to
move about. But--Why, my dears! What has happened to make you so sober?"

It certainly was vexing, when the lady was making such extra effort to
be agreeable and to adapt herself to young people's ideas, to have these
efforts so disregarded; and it was a strange thing that Dorothy should
without permission take the notebook and pencil from her teacher's lap
and begin to write.

Miss Isobel had set forth upon her travels with the firm intention of
making notes about everything along the way and it disturbed her
methodical soul to have anybody else "messing" with this neat little
record. It was only a trifle better that the girl should have turned to
the very back of the book and chosen a fly leaf there to scribble on.
Scribbling it seemed, so rapidly was it done, and after a brief time the
book was returned to its owner and she silently requested to examine
what had been written in it. This is what she read:

"We've lost our pocket-books. Or, maybe, I lost them both. We've lost
the man, too. He was a little, shiny old man, with a fringe of white
hair around his head. When he put his hat on he had two foreheads under
its rim, one before and one behind. His coat was shiny. His hat was
shiny and had a hole in it. He--he seemed to shine all over, especially
in his smile. That was perfectly lovely. Have you seen him? Because if
you know where he is I'd like to ask him for our purses. That is if he
has them as Molly and, maybe, I think. Else how could we buy his paper
for him without any money and how can we give him the paper if
he--_isn't_?"

Poor Dorothy fancied that she had made everything most explicit yet, at
the same time, very gently broken the news of the lost purses. She was
unprepared for the expression of confusion that settled upon Miss
Greatorex's austere features as she read this communication once, then
more carefully a second time.

Leaning forward, eagerly observant of "how she'll take it" Molly
perceived that Dorothy's explanation hadn't been sufficient; or else
that it had not dawned upon Miss Isobel's comprehension that her girls
had really been