what's that? Do come in! How do you do?"

"Helen, you must not be so ramshackly. You took this
gentleman's umbrella away from Queen's Hall, and he has had
the trouble of coming for it."

"Oh, I am so sorry!" cried Helen, all her hair flying.
She had pulled off her hat as soon as she returned, and had
flung herself into the big dining-room chair. "I do nothing
but steal umbrellas. I am so very sorry! Do come in and
choose one. Is yours a hooky or a nobbly? Mine's a
nobbly--at least, I THINK it is."

The light was turned on, and they began to search the
hall, Helen, who had abruptly parted with the Fifth
Symphony, commenting with shrill little cries.

"Don't you talk, Meg! You stole an old gentleman's silk
top-hat. Yes, she did, Aunt Juley. It is a positive fact.
She thought it was a muff. Oh, heavens! I've knocked the
In and Out card down. Where's Frieda? Tibby, why don't you
ever--No, I can't remember what I was going to say. That
wasn't it, but do tell the maids to hurry tea up. What
about this umbrella?" She opened it. "No, it's all gone
along the seams. It's an appalling umbrella. It must be mine."

But it was not.

He took it from her, murmured a few words of thanks, and
then fled, with the lilting step of the clerk.