"Found her?" inquired John, turning from his position looking down
at Joy. "Who was lost?"
"Do you mean to say," Phyllis demanded, "that you didn't know we'd
lost Angela for the last half-hour?"
"Well, she got lost so very--er--noiselessly," apologized John,
"that it escaped our attention. But she doesn't look as if it had
worn on her much," he added, brightening.
"It didn't," Phyllis answered with an irrepressible laugh, "it wore
on us! I expect Allan's still hunting the grounds over for her--he
and the gardener. The gardener always uses a wooden rake with a
pillow tied to its teeth."
Allan entered at one of the long windows as she spoke.
"Oh, you found her," he remarked. "I thought she wouldn't have been
out of the house."
"Where was she?" demanded Philip, John, and Joy in a polite chorus,
surrounding the center of attraction, who slept on.
"Under the guest-room bed," said Phyllis, putting her daughter down
on a couch as she spoke, and going over to the table, where she
struck the bell for soup, and sat down.
"I crawled under," interjected Mrs. Hewitt proudly, looking every
inch a duchess as she said it, "and there she was! She had eaten
every bit of cheese from the set mousetrap under it; I forgot to
tell you, Phyllis."
"Good gracious!" said Phyllis as the rest sat down about the
table.... "Well, if it hasn't hurt her so far, it mayn't at all. I'm
not going to wake her out of a seraphic slumber like that just to
ask her if she has a pain.
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