As Anna spoke there was the sound of a cab drawing up before the house. A few minutes after Drusilla entered the room. Her face was deadly white and her eyes had that wild, wide open, sleepless look seldom seen except in the insane. And yet Drusilla, in all her agony of mind was far as possible from insanity. All her anxieties were marked by forecast, reason, judgment. Dick arose, and his countenance and gestures were full of sympathy as he held out his hands and went to meet her. “Oh, Dick! Dick! you have heard of my great loss,” she said, putting her hands in his. “Yes, my dear Drusilla,” he answered, in a voice shaking with the pity that nearly broke his heart, as he looked upon her great misery. “Oh, my Lenny! my Lenny! Oh, my poor little two-year old baby!” she cried, breaking into sobs and tottering on her feet. Dick caught her and tenderly placed her in a chair and stooped before and took her hands again, saying: “Dear Drusa, your little Lenny will be found, he will indeed, my dear.” “Oh, I hope so! I believe so!—but this suspense is the most awful anguish in life! Oh, where is he _now_? _Now_ at this moment, where is my poor little helpless babe? In whose hands? Suffering what?” Her look as she said this was so full of unutterable sorrow that Dick could restrain himself no longer. “Dear Drusa, dear Drusa,” he said holding her hands, “your child, wherever he is, is not suffering; he is well and cheerful. I know it.” She looked up suddenly as a wild joy flashed over her face, for she had sprung to a too natural conclusion. “Oh, Dick, you have found him! You have found my boy! Oh, tell me so at once! Oh, don’t try to _break_ such news to me as that is! Joyful news may be told at once! it never kills! And now you see I know you have found my baby! Oh, bring him to me at once! Where is he? In my room?” She had spoken rapidly and breathlessly, and now she started up to hurry to her chamber, expecting to find her child there. Dick gently stopped her. “Dear Drusilla, I have not got your child. I wish I had,” he began, with his hand on her arm. The look of joy vanished from her face. It had been but a lightning flash across the night of her sorrow, and now it had passed and left the darkness still there. “_Oh, Dick!_” she groaned, covering her face with her hands and sinking again into her seat. “But, Drusilla, dear, I have a _clue_ to him! I have indeed! And I know that he is alive and well and cheerful.” “Oh, Dick, is this so? Oh, Dick, I know you wouldn’t deceive me, even for my own comfort, would you now, Dick?” she pleaded. “Heaven knows I would not, Drusilla. Your child was alive and well at five o’clock this afternoon—only two hours ago, for it is now only seven. And though you cannot now find him in your chamber, you need not be surprised at any future hour to find him there.” “Alive and well two hours ago! You are sure, Dick?” “Sure as I am of my own life.” “_Where_ was he, then? _Who_ saw him? Who told you?”