“Did you see her take them?” asked the Captain. “No!” “Then why do you say she did? I don’t want to frighten you, David; I only want to hear why you think she did so.” David was getting alarmed now, and his childish memory better retained the impression than what had produced it. He hung down his head, scraped one foot, and finding that he must answer, mumbled out at last, “Nurse said it, and Hal.” “Henry, come here. Did you accuse your sister to David?” “No!” burst out Henry at once; but there was a rounding of everyone’s mouth to cry out Oh! and he quickly added, in a hasty scared way, “At least, when Davie came bothering me, I said he had better ask Betty, because she had been prying about, and meddling with the baby-house. I never meant that she had done it; but Davie is such a little jack-ass!” “Did you see her meddle with the baby-house!” “She said that herself,” muttered Henry. “Yes, Papa,” said Elizabeth, starting forward, “I did find the doors of the baby-house open, and shut them up, but I never touched anything in it! Sam and Susie know I would not, and that I would not tell a story now, though I once did, you know, Papa!” Captain Merrifield still kept his grave set face, and only asked, “When did you find the doors open?” “On Friday, Papa—Friday week—St. Barnabas’ Day—just after dinner.” “Was no one with you?” “No, Papa.” “You came up-stairs first?” “Yes; I wanted my pencil before—” and she stopped short. “Before what?” “Before Miss Fosbrook went in to speak to Hal,” said Elizabeth, getting red all over. “Hal had been dining in the school-room,” said Miss Fosbrook, “on account of a little bit of disobedience.” Captain Merrifield looked keenly at Henry, who tried to return the look, but shuffled uncomfortably under it. “Then Hal had been dining in the school-room? Was he there when you came in?” “No.” “Were the doors open when you were dining there, Henry?” “N—no.” “You are sure that you did not meddle with them?” “I do not know why I should,” said Henry, hastily and confusedly. “It is only the girls and the babies that have things there—and—and Miss Fosbrook herself had been at the cupboard in the morning; why shouldn’t she have left it undone herself, and the doors got open?” “No, no!” cried Susan; “if they aren’t fastened they always burst open directly; and we never could have been in the room half the morning without noticing them!” “Then you are certain that they were closed when you went down to dinner?” Everyone was positive that the great glass doors flying out must have made themselves observed in that room full of children, especially as Susan remembered that she had been making a desk of the sloping part under them. “Does anyone remember how long it was between Hal’s leaving the room and Bessie’s coming up?”