The Mystery of the Missing Heiress

put some plates to warm in the top of the oven and turned around slowly. “It probably means that Juliana has worries of her own.” She began pouring the batter. “Let’s concentrate on supper now.”
    Soon hungry Bob-Whites descended on the stacked waffles, while Mrs. Belden kept the iron steaming and mixed another bowl of batter.
    “Did Janie eat anything?” Honey asked.
    “A bowl of soup, but her eyes were almost closing,” Mrs. Belden answered. “Bobby will be cross when he knows we’ve had waffles. He loves them.”
    “My mom gave him his dinner at our house with the twins before I brought him home,” Diana said. She laughed and went on, “I hate to tell you, but I ate dinner then, too; I never could resist waffles.”
    “It’s a Belden specialty,” Mr. Belden said and passed the jug of maple syrup to Diana at his side. “Bobby must have had quite a day. He was so tired he couldn’t hold his head up. I let him climb into bed with his clothes on—even his shoes.”
    “You didn’t!” Mrs. Belden said, more amused than shocked. “Brian, will you please answer the doorbell? Who could be stopping by now? One of the neighbors, I guess, to ask about Janie.”
    When Brian returned, Juliana was ahead of him. Her eyes traveled quickly around the group at the table. “Where’s Janie? Nobody told me about her. Did you find her?”
    “I tried to telephone you,” Jim said, “but you weren’t home.”
    “Janie’s resting,” Mrs. Belden explained. “She had quite a fall. It’s been quite a day for all of us. Will you have waffles, Juliana? There are hot ones just coming up.”
    Juliana shook her head.
    “Or coffee?Or a piece of cake? I baked it while I was waiting for everyone to come back. I’d have lost my mind if I hadn’t been able to do something.” Moms is talking too much, Trixie thought. That means she’s nervous. Juliana seems to do this to people.
    “I'm sorry I wasn’t here to go with the rest of you,” Juliana said, addressing her remark to Jim. “I've had things to attend to.”
    “Did you have an answer from Holland?”
    “No, Jim, and I just have to have an answer pretty soon... very, very soon.” Juliana’s voice thinned. “Those thoughtless people in The Hague. No word at all!”
    “Maybe you should have written to Mrs. Schimmel to take care of it for you,” Trixie suggested. “She’s right there in The Hague, as you know.”
    “Mrs. Schimmel? Who— Oh, yes, Mrs. Schimmel. I always called her by a pet name. She’s far too busy.” Juliana got up hurriedly. “If Janie seems to be all right, I’ll go on. You don’t need to go with me, Jim. I’ll go by myself.”
    Mrs. Belden and the Bob-Whites followed her to the front door.
    “It’s getting late, Juliana,” Mrs. Belden said, “quite late, and its dark. After Janie’s experience.... Don’t you think Jim had better go with you?”
    “No. I like the walk,” Juliana said hastily. “This isn’t New York’s Central Park, you know. It’s the little hick village of Sleepyside. I’ll see you later.” Mart whistled. “She almost blew out the front door. She’s in a thing about something.”
    “Whether she wants it or not, I’m going to walk along behind her,” Jim announced. He closed the screen door quietly. “We’ve had enough episodes for one day.”
    Back in the kitchen, the Bob-Whites grew quieter, realizing, finally, how tired they really were. But, even so, the girls had the dishes done in no time at all. Mr. and Mrs. Belden settled in the living room to read.
    “Stay with me tonight, Honey, please,” Trixie begged. “I’m still tingling. I can’t sleep, I know. We can talk—”
    The door slammed. Jim came stalking in without knocking.
    How do you like that?” he interrupted, sputtering. “I’m the world’s prize nitwit. I should have known she wasn’t walking home. It was that car again—the green Buick—parked down the road. I saw her get into it. Why couldn’t she have said so?”
    “Maybe she’s going to give the Dutch lawyer the heave-ho,” Mart suggested. “Maybe she’s found a new love.”
    “She doesn’t need to be so secretive about it. Who cares?” Trixie snorted. “Oh, Jim, I forgot. After all, she is your cousin.”
    “That doesn’t keep me from wondering, too. Maybe she doesn’t want Mrs. Vanderpoel to know. I don’t know why she pussyfoots around the way she does. But, as your mom told me, it’s really none of my business. I’m ready to call it