"No, of course not," said Mrs. Webster. "We are doing better now," continued Mrs. Mitchell. "He's at work again, and Miss Sutton--that's a kind lady--is trying to bring us women face to face with our employers and no middleman between. But I don't know how it will act. I've done work for Miss Sutton and her friends, but the same people don't keep on wanting mantles. I could have borne anything if I hadn't to make up crape for ourselves!" Mrs. Webster pressed Mrs. Mitchell's hand kindly, and took her leave. CHAPTER X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE "TURKEYS PIN." The disappearance of Juliet Mitchell from Littlebourne Lock the second time did not surprise or frighten her relations nearly so much as her flight had done on the first occasion. "Oh, she'll come home," said Mrs. Rowles; "never fear. When she is hungry she'll turn up, or someone will bring her." But as the evening closed in, and neither meal-time nor bed-time brought the wanderer home, some alarm began to spread through the house. Philip had taken his boat to the place where he had left Juliet, but she was not there. He went again and shouted for her, but there was no reply. Then Mr. Rowles shouted from the lock in a voice that must have been heard at half a mile's distance. Still no sign of Juliet. "You should not have left her there, Phil," said Mrs. Rowles. "I've often set Emily down at the same place," was Phil's defence, "to gather king-cups or forget-me-nots." "Yes, I know; but Juliet is not Emily." This could not be denied. It accounted for Juliet's absence, but it did not bring her home. Dozens of boats went up the river, and dozens went down. Rowles said to the occupants of each of them, "If you should see a girl of thirteen what has got lost, be so good as to tell her to come home double-quick, or it will be worse for her." Some of the people laughed, and some said "Very well;" but evening deepened into night without bringing Juliet. The last boat was that of the old gentleman's butler, or valet, or whatever he liked to call himself. When Rowles made his speech about the missing girl, the man replied, "I know; that is the child whose father is a printer. Mr. Burnet takes an interest in that child, being himself a master-printer, and the son of a journeyman printer." "The son of a journeyman printer!" Rowles repeated. "You don't say so, Mr. Robert?" "Yes, I do say it. My Mr. Burnet's father began life at the bottom of the ladder, and ended it near the top; and my Mr. Burnet began life near the top, and is ending it quite at the top. Hard work, Mr. Rowles, hard work, perseverance, honesty, and temperance; that's what does it. Your little girl's father may get to the top of the tree yet." "Not with his bad health," replied Rowles, shaking his head; "and not without his proper night's sleep."