It took the united efforts of all of us—­except Bella, who stood back and smiled nastily—­to get Betty back into the sick room again.  I was supremely thankful by that time that I had not drawn the nurse’s slip.  With dinner ordered in from one of the clubs, and the omelet ten hours behind me, my position did not seem so unbearable.  But a new development was coming.

While Betty was fussing with Aunt Selina, Max led a search of the house.  He said the necklace and the bracelet must be hidden somewhere, and that no crevice was too small to neglect.

We made a formal search all together, except Betty and Aunt Selina, and we found a lot of things in different places that Jim said had been missing since the year one.  But no jewels—­nothing even suggesting a jewel was found.  We had explored the entire house, every cupboard, every chest, even the insides of the couches and the pockets of Jim’s clothes—­which he resented bitterly—­and found nothing, and I must say the situation was growing rather strained.  Some one had taken the jewels; they hadn’t walked away.

It was Flannigan who suggested the roof, and as we had tried every place else, we climbed there.  Of course we didn’t find anything, but after all day in the house with the shutters closed on account of reporters, the air was glorious.  It was February, but quite mild and sunny, and we could look down over Riverside Drive and the Hudson, and even recognize people we knew on horseback and in cars.  It was a pathetic joy, and we lined up along the parapet and watched the motor boats racing on the river, and tried to feel that we were in the world as well as of it, but it was very hard.

Betty had been making tea for Aunt Selina, and of course when she heard us up there, she followed, tray and all, and we drank Aunt Selina’s tea and had the first really nice time of the day.  Bella had come up, too, but she was still standoffish and queer, and she stood leaning against a chimney and staring out over the river.  After a little Mr. Harbison put down his cup and went over to her, and they talked quite confidentially for a long time.  I thought it bad taste in Bella, under the circumstances, after snubbing Dallas and Max, and of course treating Jim like the dirt under her feet, to turn right around and be lovely to Mr. Harbison.  It was hard for Jim.

Max came and sat beside me, and Flannigan, who had been sent down for more cups, passed tea, putting the tray on top of the chimney.  Jim was sitting grumpily on the roof, with his feet folded under him, playing Canfield in the shadow of the parapet, buying the deck out of one pocket and putting his winnings in the other.  He was watching Bella, too, and she knew it, and she strained a point to captivate Mr. Harbison.  Any one could see that.

And that was the picture that came out in the next morning’s papers, tea cups, cards and all.  For when some one looked up, there were four newspaper photographers on the roof of the next house, and they had the impertinence to thank us!