The next morning Amy did not appear at breakfast and the mother went to her room; while Mr. Goodrich, impatient at the delay, stood with angry eyes awaiting their appearance. Frank came in. "Good morning, father," he said, glancing about with an assumed expression of surprise. "Where is Amy and mother? I thought I heard the bell." Adam grunted some reply and the son picked up a week-old daily and pretended to be deeply interested. Suddenly a piercing scream reached their ears, and a sound as of someone falling. With an exclamation of alarm, Mr. Goodrich, followed by his son, hurried from the dining-room and ran upstairs. The door of Amy's apartment was open, and just inside prone upon the floor, lay Mrs. Goodrich, holding in her hand a piece of paper. Adam, with the help of his son, lifted his wife and laid her upon the bed, which they noticed had not been occupied. For an instant the two stood looking into each other's face without a word, and then the older man said, "We must take care of mother first. Call Dr. Gleason." Under the advice of the physician, who soon came in answer to Frank's telephone call, Mrs. Goodrich was removed to her own room, and in a short time regained consciousness, but fell to moaning and sobbing, "Oh, Amy--Amy--my poor child--my baby girl--what have you done? I never thought that you would do a thing like this. Oh, my beautiful girl--come back--come back--" And then when she became calmer, told them what they already knew; that she had found her daughter's room undisturbed, with a note addressed to herself on the toilet table, containing only a simple farewell message. "There, there, wife, she's gone," said Adam, clumsily trying to soothe the mother's anguish, but finding that a tongue long accustomed to expressions of haughty pride and bigotry, could but poorly lend itself to softer words of comfort. "There, there, don't cry, let her go. That scoundrel printer is at the bottom of it all. Somehow the girl does not seem to take after the Goodrich's. Madam, please try to control your feelings. You must not make yourself ill over this matter." Mrs. Goodrich, accustomed to obey, with a great effort, ceased the open expression of her grief. "There can be no doubt but that she has gone with that tramp," continued Adam. "I shall do what I can to find her and give her one more chance. If she acknowledges her fault and promises to do better she may come home. If not, she shall never darken these doors again." "Oh, Mr. Goodrich, don't say that," cried the mother. "Think of that poor child on the streets all alone. Perhaps you are mistaken." "_What_? Am I to understand that you take her part against me?" "No, no," murmured the frightened woman. "I tell you, there can be no mistake. You saw them did you not, Frank?" "Yes, sir."