r they enjoyed themselves so
thoroughly, that they quite forgot how time was passing until the
lengthening shadows warned them that it was long past their usual hour
for returning home.

"Oh, we must make haste home," exclaimed Harold suddenly; "it can't be
very far from tea-time, and mamma won't like it if we are late."

They hurried out of the water, dried their feet as well as they could,
put on their shoes and stockings, and started on a run for the house.

But they had not gone more than half-way when Elsie cried out that she
had lost her rings.

"Those beautiful rings! Oh, dear! where did you lose them?" asked Sophy.

"I don't know at all; I just missed them this minute, and I am afraid
they are in the brook;" and Elsie turned and ran back as fast as she
could; followed by the others.

"We'll all hunt," said Harold, kindly, "and I guess we'll find them; so
don't cry, Elsie;" for the little girl was looking much distressed.

"O Elsie, I'm afraid your papa will be very angry; and perhaps whip you
very hard," exclaimed Sophy; "they were such pretty rings."

"No, he won't whip me; he never did in his life," replied Elsie quickly,
"and he has often told me he would never punish me for an accident, even
though it should cost the loss of something very valuable. But I am very
sorry to lose my rings, because, besides being pretty, and worth a good
deal of money, they were presents, one from papa, and the other from Mr.
Travilla."

"But, Elsie, I thought your papa was awfully strict, and punished you for
every little thing,"

"No; for _disobedience_, but not for accidents."

They searched for some time, looking all about the part of the stream
where they had been playing, and all over the bank, but without finding
the rings; and at last Elsie gave it up, saying it would not do to stay
any longer, and they could look again to-morrow.

"O Elsie!" cried Sophy, as they were starting again for home, "you must
have got your dress in the water, and then on the ground, for it is all
muddy."

"Oh, dear!" sighed Elsie, examining it, "how very dirty and slovenly I
must look; and that will vex papa, for he can't bear to see me untidy.
Can't we get in the back way, Sophy? so that I can get a clean dress on
before he sees me? I don't mean to _deceive_ him. I will tell him all
about it afterwards, but I know he wouldn't like to see me looking so."

"Yes, to be sure," Sophy said in reply; "we can go in at the side door,
a