The doctor was very much interested in the child. He had heard from Hanson that she was an orphan heiress, who had been left to his guardianship; that he should have placed her in the care of his mother and sister, had not those ladies left the country, for a summer tour in Europe; that now, if the child should happily recover, he should engage a nurse and a governess for her—discreet, middle-aged women, and have her under his own immediate care until the return of his mother and sister from abroad. The doctor warmly commended the prudence of the youthful guardian, and afterward spoke with enthusiasm of “that young Hanson” as one of the most excellent young men it had ever been his good fortune to meet. It was about this time that Hanson wrote his cautious letter to Roma Fronde, telling her that the child was ill unto death, breaking her heart for her “Lady,” and that she would certainly die unless she could be restored to her benefactress; but that she could only be carried home by him—Hanson—and only on condition that he—Hanson—should be received with her. Hanson waited impatiently, from day to day, for an answer to this letter; but when five days had passed, and none had come, he wrote again, in stronger terms, but with no better success. Then he became convinced that she never intended to notice his letters, no matter how often he might write. And now he resolved to do, what he had never before this thought of doing, though Roma had suspected him of that very baseness. He resolved to send a private detective down to the neighborhood of Goeberlin to watch Miss Fronde and find out all about her—her state, her habits, and her intentions, and report to him. He was able and willing to spend a great deal of money on this venture. He decided to send his man down in the character of a peddler, who, while traveling about the country offering his goods to families and their servants, should make observations and ask questions. He spared no expense in this evil enterprise. He purchased a large quantity of miscellaneous goods, and agreed to give them and all their profits to his agent; to pay his peddler’s license, his traveling expenses, his hotel bills, and for the cart and horse the man would have to buy or hire. For all this he only stipulated that the spy should keep him—Hanson—informed, by daily letters, of all Miss Fronde’s daily life. This enterprise was not, however, more successful than preceding ventures had been. The first news that Hanson received from his spy was not encouraging to his hopes. Miss Fronde was not breaking her heart for the loss of her pet, or for any other cause. That fine young woman was perfectly well, and actively employed. In partnership with her clergyman and her solicitor, she was drawing plans and making contracts for the building of a free school for colored people on her plantation, and also for a sanatorium for destitute children and invalids on her seaside estate, the Isle of Storms.