CHAPTER IX
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES
The very next day after that Maude Wilder's weekly allowance of thirtycents was missing from the purse that she had carelessly left on hertable and Ruth Dennis's gold beads were nowhere to be found.
And now the opinion of the school was divided. The more excitable girlswere convinced that the burglar had actually gotten in, but there wereother girls who were quite as certain that some one inside the house wasthe thief. But who?
The servants seemed trustworthy; Nora, the fat, good natured cook, Annieand Mary, the two neat maids, the two middle aged laundresses who camein from outside, several days a week; and Charles, the man servant whomight be seen each evening walking out with Annie and Mary beside him.It was said that Charles divided his attentions so equally between thetwo neat maids that if he _had_ been the thief, he would have beenobliged to steal everything in pairs in order to divide them withabsolute fairness between his two friends; so, of course, that letCharles out. Besides, except when there were trunks to be carried up,Charles never entered the upstairs rooms.
"Of course it isn't old Abbie," said Maude, who was under the frontporch with Henrietta, bolting hot apple pie. "She's too much of arabbit. It's true she hasn't any money; but she wouldn't have gumptionenough to steal pennies from a baby's bank."
"Do you think it might be Madame Bolande?" asked Henrietta. "She's sofearfully untruthful and so--so unwashed."
"I wouldn't put it past her," said Maude. "Her room is stuffed withclothes and things; and you know Helen Miller has lost her pleatedskirt."
"Oh, _Cora_ took that last Sunday. She said she just wouldn't go tochurch in her short one. Besides, she had ripped the hem out and hadn'thad time to put in a new one. The Miller girls had gone downstairs andCora was late, so she just rushed in, grabbed up Helen's skirt andscrambled into it. I'll tell her to put it back--she's just forgottenit."
At the same moment Gladys Evelyn de Milligan and Augusta were marchingup and down the long porch over Maude's head and Gladys was saying:
"I used to know Marjory Vale in Michigan and I can tell you one thing.She was a horrid little girl, always telling fibs and taking things thatdidn't belong to her--her aunt couldn't keep a thing in her ice box. AndMabel wasn't anybody at all in Lakeville. And goodness knows how theTuckers got money enough to send Bettie to school. They're as poor aschurch mice and have ragged little boys running all over the place."
"I wonder that you ever knew such people," said Augusta, always a littledazzled by Gladys's magnificence.
"Oh, I didn't," denied Gladys, hastily. "I--well, we used to give our oldclothes to the Tuckers."
This was not true, but as Augusta always believed anything she heard,she now believed this and many more of Gladys's unpleasant tales aboutthe little girls from Upper Michigan and passed them on to her ownparticular friends; so, in the course of time, Jean, Mabel, Marjory,Bettie; and even Henrietta, whom Gladys had _not_ known in Lakeville,were puzzled and grieved by the odd, unfriendly ways of some of theironce cordial schoolmates.
Isabelle Carew, for instance, snubbed Mabel quite heartlessly at times.Attractive little Grace Allen no longer spent her leisure moments withher classmate Marjory; but chummed instead with Ruth Dennis. AliceBailey no longer wept on Jean's shoulder during the Sunday night hymnsbut transferred her tears to Hazel Benton's convenient collar bone.
As for Augusta Lemon, convinced that the Lakeville girls were no fitassociates for any really _nice_ girl, she avoided them as much aspossible and became more and more friendly with gum-chewing Gladys. And,as usual, Lillian Thwaite always followed as closely as possible inAugusta's footsteps.
Losing Augusta and Lillian was not exactly a calamity. Augusta wasrather an insipid maiden, with no sense of humor, and the bright littlegirls from Lakeville had considered her something of a bore. And Lillianwas just a silly little person of no great consequence. Still, it wasdisconcerting and not quite pleasant to be dropped so suddenly, asMarjory said, "even by a sheep like Augusta or a goose like Lillian."
Fortunately, Sallie Dickinson, Maude Wilder, Cora Doyle, VictoriaWebster and little Jane Pool, none of whom admired Gladys, were stillfriendly; and there were others.
Just now, too, one of the Lakeville girls was having another trouble. Asyou know, mail time for Sallie Dickinson was always rather a tryingtime. If Charles returned from the post-office early enough, Sallieopened the bag in the school room and read aloud the name on eachenvelope as she passed it down to its owner. If Charles happened to belate, Sallie delivered the letters at the girls' doors.
In either case, there were no letters for Sallie, no little packagesfrom home--because she had no home--no little surprises like those thatbrought delighted squeals from her more fortunate schoolmates. Many ofthe more selfish older girls seemed to take Sallie's letterlesscondition very much for granted but the Lakeville girls were decidedlysorry for her. At times, indeed, their tender hearts quite ached forSallie.
But now Sallie was not the only sufferer for lack of mail. For weeks andweeks and weeks--eight of them to be exact--Mabel had had no letter fromher father and mother who were in Germany. There had been postals fromalong the way and one announcing their arrival in Berlin and that wasall.
Mabel possessed a dangerous imagination. It was now hard at work. Shelooked at poor old Abbie and at Sallie of the wistful eyes andshuddered. Was she, too, in danger of becoming a boarding school orphan?Would she have to wear faded old garments discarded and left behind bydeparted schoolmates? Would _she_ grow to look just like Abbie--bent andhopeless--with a retreating chin and scant, hay-colored hair and awhining voice?
She asked these harrowing questions and many others of her sympathizingfriends.
"Don't worry," soothed Henrietta. "It's a good four months since I'veheard a single word from _my_ father. If he isn't lost on one of hisexploring expeditions in the heart of India or Africa or Asia, he's beenarrested for digging up somebody's old tomb. That's why I live with mygrandmother, you know. Whenever Father hears of anything interesting todig, no matter where it is, he just rushes off to dig it. And of coursehe couldn't do that if he had me tied to his--his suspenders."
"But you have your grandmother and so much money of your own that youwouldn't _need_ to be a school orphan like--like Abbie."
"Mabel, before I'd let you be like Abbie--and you'd have to shrink anawful lot to do it and change color besides--I'd adopt you myself. It's apromise. If anything _should_ happen to your people, I'll adopt you, sothere! But don't worry. Nothing _is_ going to happen."
While these assurances were cheering, Mabel still looked disconsolatelyat Abbie and at Sallie.