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"But she does not come, Carl," he said, in a tone of undiminished anxiety. Carl was waiting, straining his ears to catch the sound of her voice in the house below. The time was fast getting on, and the night was drawing near. Could she have lost herself in the streets of London? Where too was John Morley, who had been missing since this time the night before? They were compelled to leave the child, inconsolable because Hester was not come back; and start afresh upon their vague search. They did not know where she had passed the last night; or whether she knew any one in London. There was no clue, no track. She had been near to them both only an hour or two ago, but they had not seen her. She might be close beside them still.

CHAPTER XI.

ANOTHER HESTER.

AT an early hour the next morning Carl and Robert went again to the boarding-school to inquire if anything had been heard of Hester. Upon receiving an answer in the negative, they did not know what further steps to take. They sent a telegram to Grant, cautiously worded; "We have had no success. Is there any change or any news?" The answer returned in the name of Annie Grant, by which they became aware that she shared the secret, was, "No change here, and no news." reached them soon after midday on Monday. After this they visited the two railway stations at which John Morley could have arrived, and made some cautious inquiries; but they could gain no explicit information. At present they could not resolve to set a detective to seek

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him out. While Rose continued in so precarious a state, they dare not let any clue to the criminal slip out of their own hands. They could not believe it possible that they had left

London; for both John Morley and Hester would be as inexperienced as children, with regard to any journey, or any scheme of flight. Carl hoped every hour that they would be found at his lodgings; and they returned again and again to them to see if they had not arrived there.

On the Tuesday morning, Robert, who could no longer endure the suspense about Rose, determined to return to Little Aston, leaving Carl to continue his wary but close inquiries in London. He reached the little town in the afternoon, and though he dare not let himself be seen knocking at John Morley's door, which would have attracted the attention of the neighbours, he could not resist going past the house. It looked just as usual. The closed shutters of Rose's drawing-room were still closed; but what surprised and startled him the most was to see the shop open, as if John Morley were quietly pursuing his ordinary business. He crossed over quickly, and peered in through the windows, catching a glimpse of a withered face, which glared back upon him with tigerish eyes. The mystery was explained as soon as he reached Grant's house. Grant had resolved

to keep the townspeople in the dark as long as possible, and upon Monday morning he had installed Lawson behind the counter, bidding him do his best there to meet the requirements of the few customers. It was generally reported through the town that John Morley was suffering from a second attack of brain fever; which satisfactorily accounted for his non-appearance, and for Grant's constant attendance at his house. Rose was still in danger; but there was a brighter hope now than there had been twelve hours before. It was growing more and more possible that she might rally from the shock, and partially recover; but the recovery could be only partial.

Robert went on home,-to the home he had sauntered away from carelessly for an after-dinner stroll in the cool of the evening, on Saturday night. The prodigal whom Mr. Waldron had prepared for two years before, and who had disappointed him by his light-hearted gaiety, was going back to his father's house now, feeling that he was no more worthy. The famine had made itself felt at last, and he knew that he had nothing but husks to eat. All the wealth and the honour, the graces and luxuries

of his life hung ragged and threadbare about him. He yearned to see his father looking out for him, ready to have compassion upon him, and run, and fall on his neck and kiss him. His heart was very full of repentance, and of a longing after some love which should not look for any worthiness in him. But his father was nowhere to be seen, and he avoided meeting his sister.

He bade the servant tell Mr. Waldron, when he came in, that he was in the library; and then he went there, threw himself upon a sofa, and fell into a troubled sleep, full of dreams. When he opened his eyes again, his father was standing by him, with a face of painful anxiety. If Carl had been struck by the change in his aspect, his father was ten times more so. This was no longer his handsome, debonair son; but a weary and worn man, who had been beaten somewhere in the battle of life. Robert had groaned, and his face had been sadly pained in his sleep, and he had been about to awaken him from his disturbed slumbers, just as he opened his eyes and looked up. "Father!" he said; "father!"

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My boy, Robert," said Mr. Waldron, his hard features quivering, and his voice faltering,

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