He followed her into the empty kitchen. "Bird flown?" he said. He, too, was pleased to find he could speak so casually. Frederica opened the back door and strained her eyes into the mist. "It's awfully funny," she said; "why should she go out into the fog? _Flora!_" she called loudly--and they held their breaths for an answering voice. But there was only the muffled lapping of the waves and an occasional drop falling from the big tree. They went back to the living-room, and looked at each other, blankly. "Can she have started to walk into town?" he asked. "Thirty miles? Howard, I am sort of worried about her! Do you remember? the door slammed, and--" she stopped short, remembering just when she had heard that slamming door. "Do you think she can have been ill, and gone out to one of the other houses for help? No," she corrected herself. "She knows every house in Lakeville is closed!" Again she ran up-stairs, calling and looking; then they both went out on the back porch, and called. Again the lake answered them, lapping--lapping. CHAPTER XIX "You can't stay here by yourself," he said. "I can't go back to town and leave Flora here by herself. We've got to find her!" He nodded; they were both of them entirely at ease. That tense consciousness of a few minutes before had disappeared. "I'm worried," Fred said, again; "she was awfully low-spirited because--because somebody hadn't written to her." "Oh, she's all right. She'll be back in a few minutes." "But where has she gone?" "Perhaps she walked into Laketon." "What for? Besides, it's nearly five miles!" They were standing in the kitchen doorway; Zip pushed past them and went out into the mist; smelled about, stretching first his front legs, then his hind legs. The motor loomed like a black monster under the tree. Zip gave a bored look at the lingering guest. "_Flor-a-a!_" No answer; just the lake, sighing and rippling in the sedge. "Could she have gone down to the water?" Howard said; "have you got such a thing as a lantern? I'll go out and look." "No; but light that lamp on the center-table--a candle might blow out." He went into the other room, and she heard him scratch a match and fumble with the lamp-chimney. In that minute, alone, listening all the while for Flora's returning step, her mind leaped back to that moment in front of the fire. His look--astounded, incredulous, shocked--was burned into her memory; his distressed words rung in her ears. She was not conscious of any pain because he did not love her. She was simply stunned by the jolt of suddenly and unexpectedly stepping down into the old, irrational modesties....