Maud and Mr. Plew sufficed to show the
vicar that some terrible misfortune had
happened.

"Dear Uncle Charles," said Maud,
taking his hand, " Mr. Plew has told us
that Veronica was not at his mother's
house last night. Don't, pray don't, give
way to terror, dear Uncle Charles. It has
been some mistake of Jemmy Sack. I am
sure, quite sure of it. What harm can
have happened? We should have been
sure to hear of any accident, you know. Ill
news always travels quickly. We were
startled, at first, but now I am coming to
my senses a little, and I see how foolish it
was to be so frightened!"

The poor child was trembling in every
limb, and the hand with which she clasped
the vicar's was as cold as marble.

Some men in Mr. Levincourt's case
would have rushed instantly forth; would
have sought here and there; would have
inquired feverishly; would, in brief, have
been spurred by their anxiety into imme-
diate energy and action.

But the vicar was at first stunned, not
stimulated, by the blow. He sank down
in a chair like one whose bodily powers
had been suddenly paralysed.

"The first thing to be done," said Maud,
"is to send Joe into the village. Let him
go to Sack's farm and try to find Jemmy.
Then he might go or send to the Meggitts.
It is possible that Veronica may have gone
there. Miss Turtle and the girls were
always asking her. And you will make
inquiries, won't you Mr. Plew? I see
more and more, how foolish it was to be
so frightened!"

The vicar, as he recovered from the first
shock and as Maud's elastic courage and
young hopefulness rose higher and higher,
and began to chase away the first ghastly
fear that had crushed him, displayed an
unexpected phase of feeling: he grew angry.
He resented the pain he had been made to
suffer.

"I think, Mr. Plew," he said, in a voice
whose trembling tones were by no means
under control, " I must say that I think it
highly inconsiderate on your part to come
here and cause so very terrible—so
unspeakably terrible—an alarm, without
having better grounds for it."

The little man, who seemed to be
entirely uninfluenced by Maud's cheering
suggestions, stood silent, and cast an appealing
glance at the young girl.

"Law dear, sir!" cried old Joanna, who
had remained in the room, " don't ye say
that! Mr. Plew came here without knowing
a thing about Miss Veronica. He was
took aback and scared well-nigh as much
as you was, when I opened the door and
asked him where she was, and why she
hadn't come home with him."

"Is Joe gone? Is he going?" exclaimed
the vicar, rising from his chair, and speaking
now with nervous rapidity. "Why
does no one exert any energy? I shall go
in one direction myself—Joe must take
another—to Sack's farm—d'ye hear? And,
Plew, you will—you will search——"
Then a sudden terror overcame him, and
he fell back into the chair again with a
groan. "My child! my child!" he cried.
"Oh , my child! At this moment she may
be—dead!"

"No, no, no—not that!" exclaimed Mr.
Plew, eagerly. " Not that! I do not
believe she is dead. I do not believe she is
hurt. That is not what I fear."

"Then, sir, what is it you do fear? It
is not this, and it is not that! What means
have you of knowing? And how should
you understand a parent's natural
apprehensions, or undertake to limit them?
Have you," he added, suddenly, having
caught a glance of intelligence that passed
between the surgeon and Joanna: " have
you any information that you are concealing
from me?"

"No! No!"

"You have! I see it in your face—and
in hers. Joanna, I insist, I command, you
to speak! Plew, if you think it kind to
keep me in suspense, you are cruelly
mistaken. Tell me the truth!"

"Mr. Levincourt, as God is my witness,
I know nothing! I do not, upon my soul!
But I—I had a momentary fear—a mere
momentary suspicion—that——-"

"Suspicion, sir!"

"That—that Miss Levincourt might
have left her home, purposing not to return
to it."

"H—how dare you?" gasped the vicar;
and then suddenly ceased, as though the
words were arrested in his throat and were
almost choking him.

"Untie his neckcloth!" cried the
surgeon, springing forward. The vicar waved
him off, but suffered old Joanna to obey
Mr. Plew's directions.

Maud looked from one to another in an
agony of bewilderment.

"Left her home!" she exclaimed.
"Veronica leave her home, purposing not to
return to it! How? Why?

"Whisht, my deary!" muttered Joanna,