Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said:
“Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be tired to death.”
“Your Becky?”
“Yes,” with a startled look — ”didn’t she stay with you last night?”
“Why, no.”
Mrs.
Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said:
“Goodmorning, Mrs. Thatcher. Goodmorning, Mrs. Harper. I’ve got a boy that’s turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last night — one of you. And now he’s