“I came to see if you had my broidery. I cannot find it, and I am sure ’twas you brought it in from the garden this morning.”

“Yes⁠—oh, yes⁠—I am so sorry! ’Tis in that corner on the chair, I think,” replied Diana, keeping her face averted.

Miss Betty cast a shrewd glance at her, and sat down on the sofa with the air of one who means to stay.

“What is it, my love?” she demanded.

Diana pretended to search for something in a cupboard.

“Nothing, aunt! What should there be?”

“I do not know. ’Tis what I want to find out,” answered Miss Betty placidly.

“There is nought amiss, I assure you!” To prove the truth of this statement, Diana essayed a laugh. It was a poor attempt, and wavered pitifully into a sob.