The dainty little beauty, with a throat of silky mellowness, looked curiously about, gave a "cheep" of recognition and then again buried its bill under its wing. "Even my darling's pet will not be comforted." And tears stole into her eyes as she turned away from the bird. "Oh, Sam, I've been so anxious to hear from you! Have you found my darling?" Sam had approached the steps unseen by her, and when she turned away from the bird he stood directly in front of her, though at a little distance. Her mind at once recalled his words, which rang in her ears as she sank to the ground on that fateful night of the reception, and it was therefore the first and most natural question uppermost in her mind when she saw him. He started back in evident surprise and answered confusedly: "Well--I--I am sure, Mrs. Thorpe, if I had found her, I should only be too glad to--to tell you." "And you have no tidings of her? But--come in, I am sure something important brought you here." She entered the house, followed by Sam, who muttered to himself, "She's conjuring tears already, but I'm proof, were they to fall like rain. I guess so!" Upon entering the room he looked at her steadfastly and quizically. There was something in his look, too, that bore the imprint of effrontery. She stared at him and asked timidly with alarm in her voice. "Oh, what do you know of her?" "I--I--beg your pardon, Mrs. Thorpe, but--well, the truth is, I called to know if you have any information of her." "How can you ask that question of me?" replied Constance brokenly, while again the tears welled up in her eyes. "You see, madam--ahem! You won't be offended with me, for God knows I do not mean any offense to you, but--ahem--you see, madam, you are the unhappy cause of as fine a hearted gentleman as was ever born being a broken-spirited, a--a--blighted man!" "Sam!" she affrightedly exclaimed. "What are you saying?" "This," continued he, with dauntless determination, "and I'll tell you the truth. You are the talk of the town, and they say you--you--you've secured the child from your husband." Her face became ashy white as the meaning of John's absence from home dawned on her mind. She staggered, then sank into a chair. Presently she looked up with a sort of dazed, wandering expression and tried to smile through watery eyes. "My cup of woe is very full, Sam! Please don't jest with me!" He wiped the perspiration from his brow, for he felt his resolution to accomplish what he had set out to do was fast crumbling. He rushed on, "I am not jesting. No, I guess not! I know I am paining you, but I have a duty to do which I shall do, as I have always done through my life. And as this affair occurred at my uncle's place, they say he knows more about it than he cares to tell, which he doesn't. And I have come to see if you really don't know something of the whereabouts of Dorothy, as that would relieve my uncle and aunt of much embarrassment--at least--I guess so!"