not tell you? Faith came to me again; I was not forsaken. He told you how he found me?” Mrs. Meyrick gave no audible answer, but pressed her lips against Mirah’s forehead. * * * * * “She’s just a pearl; the mud has only washed her,” was the fervid little woman’s closing commentary when, _tête-à-tête_ with Deronda in the back parlor that evening, she had conveyed Mirah’s story to him with much vividness. “What is your feeling about a search for this mother?” said Deronda. “Have you no fears? I have, I confess.” “Oh, I believe the mother’s good,” said Mrs. Meyrick, with rapid decisiveness; “or _was_ good. She may be dead—that’s my fear. A good woman, you may depend: you may know it by the scoundrel the father is. Where did the child get her goodness from? Wheaten flour has to be accounted for.” Deronda was rather disappointed at this answer; he had wanted a confirmation of his own judgment, and he began to put in demurrers. The argument about the mother would not apply to the brother; and Mrs. Meyrick admitted that the brother might be an ugly likeness of the father. Then, as to advertising, if the name was Cohen, you might as well advertise for two undescribed terriers; and here Mrs. Meyrick helped him, for the idea of an advertisement, already mentioned to Mirah, had roused the poor child’s terror; she was convinced that her father would see it—he saw everything in the papers. Certainly there were safer means than advertising; men might be set to work whose business it was to find missing persons; but Deronda wished Mrs. Meyrick to feel with him that it would be wiser to wait, before seeking a dubious—perhaps a deplorable result; especially as he was engaged to go abroad the next week for a couple of months. If a search were made, he would like to be at hand, so that Mrs. Meyrick might not be unaided in meeting any consequences—supposing that she would generously continue to watch over Mirah. “We should be very jealous of any one who took the task from us,” said Mrs. Meyrick. “She will stay under my roof; there is Hans’s old room for her.” “Will she be content to wait?” said Deronda, anxiously. “No trouble there. It is not her nature to run into planning and devising: only to submit. See how she submitted to that father! It was a wonder to herself how she found the will and contrivance to run away from him. About finding her mother, her only notion now is to trust; since you were sent to save her and we are good to her, she trusts that her mother will be found in the same unsought way. And when she is talking I catch her feeling like a child.” Mrs. Meyrick hoped that the sum Deronda put into her hands as a provision for Mirah’s wants was more than would be needed; after a little while Mirah would perhaps like to occupy herself as the other girls did, and make herself independent. Deronda pleaded that she must need a long rest. “Oh, yes; we will hurry nothing,” said Mrs. Meyrick.