Everybody was getting a little irritable. The strain of worry and fear was growing on them. The excitement of the tragedy, thrilling at first, was settling down to a depressing state of enforced idleness.
The theories had all been discussed, the possibilities all talked over, the conditions deplored, until now, everything that was said had been said before.
All waited and hoped for some new development.
Aunt Judy saw this and flung herself into the breach.
“Look here, Nell and Betty,” she said, “Emily is away, but we’ve no real reason to think harm has come to her. We hope she’s safe and sound wherever she may be. And she may blow in any minute. Now, you do something to amuse yourselves. Get up a little dance for this evening. There’s no impropriety in that. Poor Polly’s death doesn’t
