"Miss Sharp would say it was my carelessness, and she would be so very vexed."
"Then she's a mean old thing, and not a bit like dear Aunt Ada. Do tell her, Mary."
"Oh, I can't, I can't," persisted Mary, terror again seizing her, "I am so afraid she will be vexed."
"Oh, no, please. Wait a little longer. Perhaps the broach can be found. Oh, I am so miserable; Aunt Ada will think I am so careless and deceitful, and everything bad."
Molly now felt only a deep pity for the poor little sinner, and she began to kiss away the tears on Mary's cheeks. "Please don't be miserable," she begged. "I think maybe you ought to have told at first, but I see how you felt, and I'll not be horrid to you any more, Mary. I'll stand up for you straight along, and when you want Aunt Ada to know I will go with you to tell her."
Mary really began to feel comforted. "I think you are a perfect duck, Molly," she said. "Fancy after all I have been doing, for you to be so kind. But please don't tell Polly; I know she doesn't like me."
"She did like you," said Molly truthfully, "until--until we heard that you had not been where Aunt Ada thought you were."
"And she thinks I am deceitful; so I have been, and I hate myself for it."
"Then don't tell her; I'd rather anything than that."
"Yes, but I don't want her to know I lost the brooch."
It was useless to try to rid poor Mary's mind of the one idea, and at last Molly gave up trying, but she did not leave her forlorn little cousin, and Polly, in the next room while she wondered what could be keeping Molly, fell asleep in the midst of her wondering.
Polly was all curiosity the next morning. "Why in the world didn't you sleep with me?" she asked, sitting up in bed as Molly came in from the next room.
"Because Mary needed me. She was in awful trouble," replied Molly soberly.
"I think that's real mean," returned Polly indignantly. "You're just a turncoat, Molly Shelton; first you're friends with me, and then you're thick as can be with Mary."
"I'm not a turncoat," retorted Molly, angry at being called names. "She's as much my cousin as you are, and I reckon if you were way off from your mother and had a dreadful thing happen that you couldn't talk to her about, you'd want some one to be a little sorry for you."