Uncle Jared gave her to buy me another, and we walked a mile and a
half apiece to Bolton, to buy it in Gerrish's, and I couldn't; and I
was afraid something had happened to mother; and I'm sorry." Then
Comfort sobbed until her very sobs seemed failing her.

Her father wiped his eyes. "Don't let that child cry that way,
Em'ly," said he to Mrs. Pease. Then he turned to Comfort. "Don't you
feel so bad, Comfort," he coaxed. "Father'll get you some peppermints
when he goes down to the store to-night." Comfort's father gave her
a hard pat on her head; then he went out of the room with something
that sounded like an echo of Comfort's own sobs.

"Comfort," said Mrs. Pease, "look here, child. Stop crying, and
listen to what I've got to say. I want you to come into the parlor
with me a minute."

Comfort followed her mother weakly into the best parlor. There on the
table stood the rosewood work-box, and her mother went straight
across to it and opened it.

"Look here, Comfort," said she; and Comfort looked. There in its own
little compartment lay the ring. "Miss Tabitha Hanks found it in the
road, and she thought you had taken it unbeknownst to me, and so she
brought it here," explained her mother. "I didn't let you know
because I wanted to see if you would be a good girl enough to tell me
of your own accord, and I'm glad you have, Comfort."

Then Comfort's mother carried her almost bodily back to the warm
kitchen and sat her before the fire to toast her feet, while she made
some cream-toast for her supper.