"Of course," said his little sister. "How fortunate they don’t know yet that it was you who was married." Then Betty flew to call her father, telling him excitedly all the way to the front door what had happened. "Poor child! Poor child!" said the father tenderly, as he listened to the tale. "And poor Mother, too; she just didn’t understand." Charles made no response. He did not feel like pitying his mother yet. "What do you think I had better do, Father?" he asked. "I’ve gone everywhere about the place; and down the road a good way in each direction." "She will have started home, I suppose—it is a girl’s natural refuge," said the old man thoughtfully. "There’s only one road if you don’t take the train. She wouldn’t likely go all that way around." "But, Father, she doesn’t know the way. It was all quite new to her." "Oh, that’s easy. She will ask, and of course anybody will direct her. She’s probably asked somebody quite near the house here. If you only knew whom, you could easily trace her, but, as you say, it’s best not to say anything about it, for it would get out to the neighbors. We’ll soon trace her. There are only two ways by which she could reach the main stage-road. You go down to the stable and saddle the two sorrel mares. The blacks are tired with the long drive to-day, so you’d better take the sorrels. The men are all gone to bed by this time, so you’ll have to do it yourself. You take one horse and go the road by the sawmill, and I’ll take the other and go around by Applebee’s farm, and then if she should have taken it into her head to go back by the way you came, I couldn’t miss her, for she couldn’t have gone further than that by this time. Had she any money with her?" "I don’t know," answered Charles miserably. "Cheer up, lad, we’ll find her inside of two hours, never fear. Hurry up, and I’ll be with you in half a minute." Five minutes later, the two horses and their riders parted company at the cross corners, and started on the search. CHAPTER XVII Dawn fled through the dark grass, straight from the house, not knowing or thinking where she was going, only to get away. In a moment she reached a high hedge of dense growth, and, not daring more than to glance toward the house, she crept swiftly along toward the street. A few rods from the sidewalk she found a small opening and slipped through into another great yard. Keeping close to the hedge, she soon reached the front, and slid out at the gate like a wraith, wondering what she would do if some one in the neighbor’s house should accost her. But no one was near. She could hear footsteps coming, and gay voices, so she turned and hurried the other way, though it carried her past the house she had just left. It would not do, she thought, to meet any one just yet.