Kitty, who had been standing in the middle of the room looking the very picture of despair, now burst into a hearty peal of laughter. "What are you laughing about?" asked Alice. "I am awfully afraid it has happened," she cried. "What do you mean?" "Why, that your jacket has gone to the pawn." "Kitty!" cried Alice, looking at the Irish girl in some alarm, "have you gone mad?" "No, Alice; but I am dreadfully afraid all the same that it has happened; indeed, there can be no doubt of it." Kitty laughed again. She often cried when she laughed and now the tears ran down her cheeks. "Well, this is too funny!" she gasped between her paroxysms of mirth. "I don't think it funny at all. I think you must have taken leave of your senses. Kitty, please, explain yourself." "I will try to, Alice. Oh, don't frown at me so horribly, or I shall go off into fits of laughter again. This is the simple truth. I wanted money very, very badly. I could not get it, and Carrie Lewis--" "Carrie Lewis? Who is she?" asked Alice. "Oh, don't be so ridiculous, Alice. Of course you know who Carrie Lewis is. She is Elma's sister. She came here to-day." "How very interesting! What a nice set of people you seem to be getting to know! I wasn't aware that you were acquainted with any of the Lewises except Elma." "Well, I am acquainted with Carrie now, and I rather like her. She is great fun, much more fun than you are. She is vulgar, of course; but really that does not matter. She called to see me, and as I happened to want money she suggested pawning some of my things for me. I conclude she took your jacket by mistake with the rest." Alice was so stunned absolutely by this news that no words would come to her. She stared at Kitty, her face growing whiter and more wooden-looking each moment. Then, without vouchsafing a syllable of reply, she left the room, banging the door behind her. "There, I have given her a good settler," thought Kitty; and for a moment the feeling that Alice was as uncomfortable as she was herself gave her a certain sense of satisfaction. The last post brought a letter from Laurie. It was brief, and was written in frantic hurry and despair. "My dear Kitty," wrote the boy, "what has come to you? I am looking for a letter by every post, but none arrives. I shall not be able to give Wheel-about the money I promised him on Saturday, and I know he will not keep my secret any longer. When father hears it, all is up. If I don't receive that money by Saturday morning I shall run away to sea.--LAURIE."