“Yes; come as far with us as you can,” pleaded Owlet, clinging to his hand. “Willingly, my dear,” said the young man. The three left the room together, Harcourt leading the little girl. In the outer office Mr. Merritt stopped a moment to speak to his clerk. “I shall not return here again, Lloyd. Lock up at the usual hour.” Then they went downstairs and left the house. On their way down Four and One-half Street to Pennsylvania Avenue, Owlet chattered to her friend: “I do thank you ever so much for being so good to me. I shall be sure to tell Lady all about you, and she will thank you, too, oh! ever so much! And so will Ducky Darling, though she can’t say much, poor little thing. She is so little, and so ignorant, you know. And, oh! I hope your dear mother will soon get well, and you will come to see me and Lady. And you will fetch her, too, won’t you? I shall tell Lady to write and ask her to come with you,” she said. They were very near the avenue, and they saw an uptown car coming toward the crossing. Mr. Merritt raised his stick and his voice to hail and stop it. Then he took a hurried leave of the young man, seized the child, and put her on the car while she was still saying to her friend: “Oh! good-by! good-by! good-by! I am so sorry you are not going with us!” He raised his hat and smiled as the car ran away with them. Then he turned his steps in the opposite direction and walked hurriedly to the railway station, arriving there just in time to catch his train. CHAPTER XXVII ROMA AT WORK After the abduction of Owlet and the departure of Mr. Merritt the life of the lady of Goblin Hall was very lonely. Only one constant visitor cheered her solitude. That was her aged pastor, Dr. Shaw. When Roma was inclined to grieve for her lost pet, and cherish gloomy forebodings for the child’s future, Dr. Shaw would always reassure her. One morning, when he was making a call, she said to him: “It fills me with despair to think of my little Owlet in the power of that man—that man who deserted his young wife and child when the child was but three months old—that man who has no conscience and no affection, who uses the child only as a scourge to drive me into a position which I could not accept, even for that dear child’s sake. I say it fills me with despair, Dr. Shaw.” “My dear Roma, as you cannot contest his claim to his own child, as you cannot accept the terms upon which he offers to restore her—as, in fact, you can do nothing in this case, you must leave all in the hands of Divine Providence. Hanson is an irreligious, unprincipled man; yet, as he has more money than he knows what to do with, he will take good care of his own little daughter. You may assure yourself of that.” In this manner the good minister would seek to raise her drooping spirits.