“That is my affair,” she wheezed, wiping the perspiration from her face with a delicate cambric handkerchief. “Certainly,” he replied, with a slight bow of acquiescence; “the money is your own to use as you please, but it is a pity to throw it away. And how long have we been engaged in this search?” “Ten years!” she sighed half despairingly; “but,” brightening a little, “we’ve almost let it drop for months past. I’d nearly lost heart, but we must begin again and never mind expense. I’d give half my fortune to succeed.” “I wish you may; though I have not much hope of it, I must confess,” he answered indifferently, “but of course your instructions shall be promptly carried out.” CHAPTER XXVII. THE LONG-LOST DEED. “Thus doth the ever-changing course of things Run a perpetual circle, ever turning.” Hetty and her mother had taken advantage of the slack time to pay a long-promised visit to some friends in the country, leaving to Mrs. Sharp the oversight of domestic affairs and the care of the store, with such assistance as she could get from Araminta and Lucian, who were home for the summer vacation. John was, as usual, spending his vacation in farm work, while all the apprentices and journey-women had left for the time being, except our heroine and Annie Jones, who was an orphan and had neither home nor friends to go to. These two were kept pretty steadily employed upon the few dresses of customers still on hand, and in preparing Miss Sharp’s wardrobe for another year at boarding-school. One morning Floy, who had been left for an hour or more sole occupant of the work-room, was startled by the sudden entrance of Annie in a state bordering on distraction. “Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do!” she cried, wringing her hands and pacing the floor to and fro with rapid steps, while great tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, Miss Kemper, can you help me?” “What is it, Annie?” Floy asked, stopping the machine which she was running at the moment, and turning upon the girl a look of mingled surprise and pity. “Stop crying and tell me, and I will certainly help you if I can. Have you offended Mrs. Sharp?” “Oh, yes, and worse than that: she says I’ve robbed her; but oh, I haven’t! I wouldn’t steal a pin from anybody. But she won’t believe a word I say, and she says if I don’t find the five dollars pretty quick she’ll have me arrested and taken to prison; and Lucian wants to go off for a policeman right away. Oh dear, oh dear!” The girl’s distress and agitation were so great that Floy had some difficulty in coming to a clear understanding of her trouble; but at length, by dint of soothing and questioning, she learned the facts, which were these: Annie had been sent to carry home some finished work, taking with her a receipted bill for thirty dollars, her instructions being not to leave it unless it was paid.