"My dear, he's in Chicago. I came over to read you a letter from him that I got to-night. That new postman left it at the Scovels', by mistake, and they never sent it over until a little while ago. There was a sentence in it," Mrs. Snow was fumbling with a paper, "that I thought you'd like to hear. Where is it? Let me see. 'Next month I hope to be able to send you more'--no, no, that's not it. 'When my socks get holes in them I throw them'--that's not it, either. Oh! he says, 'I caught a glimpse of Mr. Alexander last night, getting on a West Side car'--this was written yesterday morning. 'I called to him, but too late. I'm sorry, for I'd like to have seen him,' That's all; but Mr. Girard seemed so pleased with the letter, I promised that I would bring it around to you that very minute,--he had to run for the train,--but I was detained. He thought you'd like to hear that William had seen Mr. Alexander." Like to hear! The relief for the moment turned Lois faint. Yet, after Mrs. Snow went, the torturing questions began to repeat themselves again. Justin was alive--Justin was alive on Tuesday night. Was he alive now? And why had he gone to Chicago at all? Why had he sent her no word? The wall between them seemed only the more opaque. Every fear that imagination could devise seemed to center around this new fact. She and Dosia went around, straightening up the little drawing-room, making it ready for Girard's occupancy--pulling out a big chair for his use, and putting fresh books on the table. The maid had long ago gone to bed, and there was coffee to be made for him--he might get hungry in the night. When he came in at last, he brought all the brightness and courage of hope with him. He had wired to William; he had phoned to a dozen different places in Chicago. "Oh, what should we do without you?" breathed Lois, her foot on the stairway. "It doesn't seem to me I've helped you very much so far. Our one clue has been from Mrs. Snow. I want you to go to bed now, and to sleep, Mrs. Alexander; take all the rest you can. I'm here to do the watching. If there's anything really to tell, I'll call you. I promise faithfully. What is it, Miss Linden? Did you want to speak to me?" "There was a message for you while you were gone," said Dosia in a low tone. His eyes assented. "Yes, I know. I went there--to the place that they--but it wasn't Alexander, I'm glad to say, though I was afraid when I went in----" "I know," said Dosia. Another strange night had begun, with the master of the house away. Lois went to her room to lie down clothed, jumping up to come to the head of the stairs whenever the telephone-bell rang, and then going back again when she found that those who were consulting were asking for information instead of giving it; but by and by the messages ceased.