In the mean time I looked out anxiously for news of Jessie, but on the first day of her absence I learnt nothing. I went to Mr. Rackstraw's in the afternoon to make inquiries, but he received me coldly, and desired me not to call again--in such terms that I was certain Mr. Glover had made him my enemy. Then I went to Turk's new shop, and found him very busy, and sanguine of his prospects. But as he had no news of Jessie I listened to his relation of his plans with small interest. 'I shall be able to serve you, Chris,' he said, before I went away; 'I shall keep my eyes open.' That night I sat up with my mother until three o'clock, when Josey relieved me. My mother did not know me, and although I strove hard to make her recognise me, her eyes dwelt on my face as they would have done on the face of a stranger. What pain and grief this brought to me I cannot describe. There was something different in the arrangement of the room, and I made a remark concerning it to Josey. The room was clearer, lighter. Josey explained it to me in a sharp tone, as though she desired not to be questioned. 'The doctor said the room must be made as airy as possible; he doesn't want a lot of lumber about.' But the next morning it occurred to me that the box in which Jessie kept her clothes and nicknacks had been taken out of the room. I looked about the house for it, but could not find it. 'Where is Jessie's box, Josey?' I asked. 'Gone,' was the short and snappish reply. 'Gone where?' 'Well, I suppose you must be told. While you were away yesterday, Jessie sent for it.' 'Then you know where she is,' I cried excitedly, jumping to my feet, and tearing off my working-coat. 'Yes, I know where she is.' I waited, but Josey did not volunteer further information. I looked at her reproachfully. 'I'll just tell you as much as I'm compelled to, master Christopher, and no more. I had a letter from Jessie yesterday---O, no; you'll not see it! It was meant for my own eyes, and no others. I said that Jessie would tell me the reason of her going away, and she has done so; and I know where she is, and I've sent her clothes and all her things to her. And that's all, master Christopher.' 'No, it isn't all, Josey. You will tell me something more. If I'm not to know where she is----' 'Which you are not,' Josey interrupted; 'not from me at least.' 'I may know whether she is well.' 'Yes, she is well in health.' 'And happy?' 'I don't know; I can't tell.' 'Did she do right in going away?' She answered me in precisely the same words. 'I don't know; I can't tell.' 'Is she stopping with friends?' 'Yes, she is stopping with friends.' 'But what friends can she have that we don't know of?' 'Ah,' exclaimed Josey, more snappishly than before, 'what friends, I wonder?' 'Josey,' I said coaxingly, putting my arm round her waist----