This piece of common sense convinced everybody on the spot except Mrs. Bazalgette. That lady, if she had decided on “making a hole in the water,” would have sat on the bank first, and clapped on all her jewels, and all her richest dresses, one on the top of another. Finally, Mr. Bazalgette, who wore a somber air, and had not said a word, requested everybody to mind their own business. “I have a communication from Lucy,” said he, “and I do not at present disapprove the step she has taken.” All eyes turned with astonishment toward him, and the next moment all voices opened on him like a pack of hounds. But he declined to give them any further information. Between ourselves he had none to give. The little note Lucy left on his table merely begged him to be under no anxiety, and prayed him to suspend his judgment of her conduct till he should know the whole case. It was his strong good sense which led him to pretend he was in the whole secret. By this means he substituted mystery for scandal, and contrived that the girl's folly might not be irreparable. At the same time he was deeply indignant with her, and, above all, with her hypocrisy in clinging round him and kissing him the very night she meditated flight from his house. “I must find the girl out and get her back;” said he, and directly after breakfast he collected his myrmidons and set them to discover her retreat. The outward frame-work of the holy alliance remained standing, but within it was dissolving fast. Each of the allies was even now thinking how to find Lucy and make a separate peace. During the flutter which now subsided, one person had done nothing but eat pigeon-pie. It was Kenealy, captain of horse. Now eating pigeon-pie is not in itself a suspicious act, but ladies are so sharp. Mrs. Bazalgette said to herself, “This creature alone is not a bit surprised (for Bazalgette is fibbing); why is this creature not surprised? humph! Captain Kenealy,” said she, in honeyed tones, “what would you advise us to do?” “Advertaize,” drawled the captain, as cool as a cucumber. “Advertise? What! publish her name?” “No, no names. I'll tell you;” and he proceeded to drawl out very slowly, from memory, the following advertisement. N. B.--The captain was a great reader of advertisements, and of little else. “WANDERAA, RETARN. “If L. F. will retarn--to her afflicted--relatives--she shall be received with open aams. And shall be forgotten and forgiven--and reunaited affection shall solace every wound.” “That is the style. It always brings 'em back--dayvilish good paie--have some moa.” Mr. Fountain and Mrs. Bazalgette raised an outcry against the captain's advice, and, when the table was calm again, Mrs. Bazalgette surprised them all by fixing her eyes on Kenealy, and saying quietly, “You know where she is.” She added more excitedly: “Now don't deny it. On your honor, sir, have you no idea where my niece is?” “Upon my honah, I have an idea.” “Then tell me.”