Genevieve put up her pretty chin. “It’s hardly any commoner than gossip,” she answered. “However, I’ve noticed that if a man is distinguished he gets a lot of criticism. But”--with a shrug--“one never minds the criticism of kids.” Sue said nothing. She left Genevieve at The Lilacs and went home. But she had only arrived when she was summoned to the telephone. As she took the receiver she could hear sobbing. Then, “Sue!” wailed a voice--Genevieve’s; “l-look in the wagon, Sue. I--I lost my p-purse this morning.” She began to sob again. Sue gave a prompt order. “Dear Genevieve,” she answered back, “don’t worry. The purse is sure to turn up.” A few minutes later she was in the carriage-house, dressed for riding. And when she learned that no purse had been found, telephoned Genevieve again before mounting the grey to ride to The Lilacs. Genevieve was gone to Hadbury when Sue arrived, Phil having urged that an advertisement be placed at once in the _Star_, together with the offer of a suitable reward. “Then Phil came, after all,” said Sue. She was walking to and fro in the old-fashioned drawing-room. “I called him,” answered Mrs. Vander Laan, who was a little old lady with an enthusiastic liking for young people. “When he got here he telephoned to have the field searched; then started. The reward is to be one hundred dollars.” “That much?” asked the girl. “The purse must have contained a good deal.” “Exactly seven hundred,” said Mrs. Vander Laan; “all of her month’s allowance. Wasn’t she foolish to be carrying so much about with her! But the sweet child was so pretty as she wept.” “Seven hundred!” exclaimed Sue. “Has she any idea where she lost it?” “She thinks it was when she was just starting for home. She remembers having the purse when she was still at the polo-field. She says you drove so rapidly----” “I did,” admitted Sue, conscience-stricken. “Oh, I sha’n’t let her lose it, Mrs. Vander Laan. It was my fault. Why didn’t she deposit it in a bank that day she went into town?” Mrs. Vander Laan was embroidering. Now she suddenly stopped and looked up at Sue. “But she hasn’t been to town,” she declared. “Not to the dentist’s?” asked Sue, “--the day of the Fanshaw garden fête?” “No, dear. She went driving with Mr. Valentine.” “Oh.” Sue began to walk the floor again. She was still walking when Genevieve and Phil came in. “Genevieve, I’m _so_ sorry,” she cried, giving her hand to the other girl. “Tell me something to do.” Genevieve met her sympathy ungraciously. “Oh, don’t bother,” she said with a little irritation. “I’d rather not have such a fuss made about it.” Then, to Mrs. Vander Laan: “May we have tea, _mütterchen_? Sue, take Mr. Rawson home with you and jolly him up with some tennis.”