It was a hot morning in early July, and Nancy, after running into the house to report her return to her mother, joined Shirley in a shady corner under the shrubbery, which had become a favourite trysting-place of the two children. Half an hour afterward Nancy, her eyes wide with excitement, sought out her mother and Jane upon the small back porch, where each was busy with the morning’s work--at this moment the looking-over of raspberries and the shelling of peas. "O mother--O Jane!" the child began, "the dreadfullest thing has happened over at the big house! Forrest Townsend ’s run away, and they don’t know where he is!" "Why, Nan!" Jane’s busy fingers, red with raspberry stains, stopped their work, as she stared at her sister in dismay. "That can’t be so!" "Yes, it can--it is! Shirley told me. He’s been gone three days, but they thought he must be off on a visit till they got a letter this morning. And they don’t even know where the letter was mailed from. Mrs. Townsend ’s sick in bed about it, and Shirley says her father won’t say a word--just looks white and angry and queer." "The poor father and mother!" murmured Mrs. Bell, her eyes full of sympathy. "But he can’t have gone away to stay," said Jane, staring at Nancy, still incredulous. "He’s an impulsive fellow--quick tempered, hot-headed--and he and his father don’t get on well together. But to run away----" "But he has," persisted Nancy. "The letter said it was no use looking for him; he’d come back some time when he ’d shown he could look after his own--oh, I don’t remember just what he said--Shirley was n’t sure what it meant. But she said her mother just cried and cried, and told her father she’d always known his harsh ways----" "Don’t, dear--don’t tell us!" Mrs. Bell interrupted, quickly. "Shirley should n’t have told you anything that was said; we have no right to know. When people are hurt and sad, they say bitter things they are very sorry for afterward. The only thing for us to know is that this trouble has come to our neighbours. We must think how we can help them. I would go over at once if I thought I could be of use to poor Mrs. Townsend--and were sure she was willing I should know." They discussed the situation, Mrs. Bell and Jane, as they went on with their work; and Jane told her mother all she knew of Forrest’s differences with his father. "It bothers me so," she ended, sorrowfully, "that I did n’t realise he was in earnest about taking things into his own hands, and do something to let the others know. Do you suppose that foolish threat about enlisting in the army could really have been what he meant to do? Do you suppose he has done it?" "It is a possible clue. I think they ought to know it, if they have nothing else to guide them. When your father comes home I will talk with him about it, and he may think it best to go to Mr. Townsend himself, tell him what we know, and offer to help."