and no one saw her return, and she put the packet away
somewhere--we don't know where. Well, after that, wonderful things
happened, and Betty was made a tremendous fuss of in the school. There
was no one like her, and she was loved like anything, and we were as
proud as Punch of her. But all of a sudden everything changed, and our
Betty was disgraced. There were horrid things written on a blackboard
about her. She was quite innocent, poor darling! But the things
were written, and Betty is the sort of girl to feel such disgrace
frightfully. We were quite preparing to run away with her, for
we thought she wouldn't care to stay much longer in the
school--notwithstanding your opinion of it, Mrs. Miles. But all of a
sudden Betty seemed to go right down, as though some one had felled her
with an awful blow. She kept crying out, and crying out, that the packet
was lost. Anyhow, she thinks it is lost; she hasn't an idea where it can
be. And the doctors say that Betty's brain is in such a curious state
that unless the packet is found she--she may die.

"So we went to her, both of us, and we told her we would go and find
it," continued Sylvia. "We have got to find it. That is what we have
come about. We don't suppose for a minute that it was right of Betty to
tell the lie; but that was the only thing she did wrong. Anyhow, we
don't care whether she did right or wrong; she is our Betty, the most
splendid, the very dearest girl in all the world, and she sha'n't die.
We thought perhaps you would help us to find the packet."

"Well," said Mrs. Miles, "that's a wonderful story, and it's a queer
sort o' job to put upon a very busy farmer's wife. _Me_ to find the
packet?"

"Yes; you or your husband, whichever of you can or will do it. It is
Betty's life that depends upon it. Couldn't your dogs help us? In
Scotland we have dogs that scent anything. Are yours that sort?"

"They haven't been trained," said Mrs. Miles, "and that's the simple
truth. Poor darlings! you must bear up as best you can. It's a very
queer story, but of course the packet must be found. You stay here for
the present, and I'll go out and meet my husband as he comes along to
his dinner. I reckon, when all's said and done, I'm a right good wife
and a right good mother, and that there ain't a farm kept better than
ours anywhere in the neighborhood, nor finer fowls for the table, nor
better ducks, nor more tender geese and turkeys. Then as to our
pigs--why, the pigs t