“Oh!” Betty cried suddenly.  “I remember it was in the bag when I was shopping yesterday.”

“Shopping where?  Let’s hear about the last place you remember seeing it.”

Betty remembered very clearly seeing the twist of paper with the locket in it while she was at Purcell’s where she had bought some veiling.

“Then, Betty,” said Bobby, “you went to that little store afterward, you said, where you got the over-blouse.”

“Ye—­es.  But I didn’t notice it while I was there.  I was so excited over the blouse and so interested in Ida Bellethorne that I don’t remember of looking in my bag to see if my locket was safe.”

“’Ida Bellethorne’?” repeated Bob in surprise.  “Why! that’s the name of Mr. Lewis Bolter’s new mare from England.  I heard Mr. Littell and Uncle Dick talking about her.”

“And I met a girl named Ida Bellethorne.  I’ll tell you all about her later, Bob,” said Betty.  “Just now I want to know what to do about the locket.”

“I should say you did!  And I’ll tell you what,” Bob said promptly.  “Right after breakfast we’ll borrow the little car and I’ll take you over to Georgetown and we’ll go to every place you went to yesterday, Betty, and inquire.  I’m allowed to drive in the District of Columbia, you know.”

“Will you, Bob?” cried Betty.  “Do you think there is any chance of our finding it?”

“Why not?  If it was picked up in one of the stores you went to.  There are lots more honest people in the world than there are dishonest.  Come on now, don’t cry.”

“I’m not going to cry,” declared Betty.  “I’ve cried enough already.  Don’t tell the others, Bob.  Nor Uncle Dick.  I don’t want him to know if I can help it.  It looks just as though I didn’t prize his present enough to take care of it.”

Somehow, Betty felt encouraged by Bob’s taking hold of the matter.  The small car was secured after breakfast and Bob and the two girls set off for the other side of the river.  It was not alone because of Bob’s advice that they stopped first at the little neighborhood shop on the hilly side street where Betty had bought her sweater.  Bobby was anxious to see her blue sweater, and the two girls ran in as soon as the car halted before the door.

The little bell over it jingled pleasantly at their entrance; but it was a tall and rather grim-looking woman who came from the back of the shop to meet them instead of the English girl with whom Betty had dealt on her former visit.

“Humph!” said Mrs. Staples, for it was she, when she spied the over-blouse under Betty’s coat.  “You are the young lady who was to purchase the blue blouse when it was finished?”

“For my friend here,” said Betty, bringing Bobby forward.  “I know she will like it.”

“I hope so,” said Mrs. Staples.  “It is finished.  Ida sat up most of the night to finish it.  Here it is,” and she displayed the dark blue blouse for the girls to see.