"Oh, never mind, Aunt Selina," Jim said, with a sheepish grin.
"Kit--Bella is tired and nervous. This is a h--deuce of a
situation. No--er--servants, and all that."

But Aunt Selina did mind, and showed it. She pulled the unlucky
Harbison man through the door and closed it, and then stood
glaring at both of us.

"Every little quarrel is an apple knocked from the tree of love,"
she announced oratorically.

"This was a very little quarrel," Jim said, edging toward the
door; "a--a green apple, Aunt Selina, a colicky little green
apple." But she was not to be diverted.

"Bella," she said severely, "you said you loathed him. You didn't
mean that."

"But I do!" I cried hysterically. "There isn't any word to tell
how I--how I detest him."

Then I swept past them all and flew to Bella's dressing room and
locked myself in. Aunt Selina knocked until she was tired, then
gave up and went to bed.

That was the night Anne Brown's pearl collar was stolen!