And this suggested something to her. She would disappear from her home and take refuge with the Brady family. She had read in the newspaper of people disappearing from their homes, therefore it would be quite possible. Life at the Bradys' would not be altogether desirable, but anything was better than being sent away off to Virginia to live with Marjorie. And if she were at the Bradys' she would be near enough to hear of her father's return, if he ever came. She would ask them to say nothing about her being there, and she would be careful not to go near the back of the house, so there would be no chance of her being discovered, for her aunts would never think of looking for her there. Her mind was fully made up. She would take refuge with the Brady family. [TO BE CONTINUED.] A VIRGINIA CAVALIER. BY MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. CHAPTER XV. George's second summer's work was less like a pleasure expedition than his first had been. He spent only a few days at Greenway Court, and then started off, not with a boy companion and old Lance, but with two hardy mountaineers, Gist and Davidson. Gist was a tall, rawboned fellow, perfectly taciturn, but of an amazing physical strength and of hardy courage. Davidson was small but alert, and, in contradistinction to Gist's taciturnity, was an inveterate talker. He had spent many years among the Indians, and, besides knowing them thoroughly, he was master of most of their dialects. Lord Fairfax had these two men in his eye for months as the best companions for George. He was to penetrate much farther into the wilderness, and to come in frequent contact with the Indians, and Lord Fairfax wished and meant that he should be well equipped for it. Billy of course went with him, and Rattler went with Billy, for it had now got to be an accepted thing that Billy would not be separated from his master. A strange instance of Billy's determination in this respect showed itself as soon as the second expedition was arranged. Both George and Lord Fairfax doubted the wisdom of taking the black boy along. When Billy heard of this, he said to George, quite calmly, "Ef you leave me 'hine you, Marse George, you ain' fin' no Billy when you gits back." "How is that?" asked George. "'Kase I gwi' starve myself. I ain' gwi' teck nuttin' to eat, nor a drap o' water--I jes gwi' starve twell I die." George laughed at this, knowing Billy to be an unconscionable eater ordinarily, and did not for a moment take him in earnest. Billy, however, for some reason understood that he was to be left at Greenway Court. George noticed, two or three days afterwards, that the boy seemed ill, and so weak he could hardly move. He asked about it, and Billy's reply was very prompt. "I 'ain' eat nuttin' sence I knowed you warn' gwi' teck me wid you, Marse George." "But," said George, in amazement, "I never said so." "Is you gwi' teck mo?" persisted Billy.