“I am afraid not yet, dear, but we must try and be patient. The detectives say there is every reason to hope that something may be discovered this week. Come and sit down, and let me have a good cry on your shoulder. I try to keep up before Percy--he has enough to bear himself, poor fellow--but I think it does me good to break down once in a while.” “Oh, you poor dear!” cried Geraldine, throwing her arms round her friend’s neck, and they clung to each other in silent grief. “Mrs. Douaine,” said Geraldine, abruptly, when they were both calmer, and were sitting together on the sofa, “did you see Gretel’s picture in the _Times_ this morning?” “No, dear, but Percy told me about it.” “Eugenie told me,” said Geraldine, “and she says--she says there is something else, too. Some people think Gretel may have run away on purpose. You don’t believe any such nonsense, do you?” “Certainly not,” Gretel’s sister-in-law answered, with so much decision that Geraldine’s face brightened perceptibly. “I knew you didn’t,” she said in a tone of relief, “but it’s ever so comforting to hear you say it.” “It is all a great mystery,” said Mrs. Douaine, sadly, “but of one thing Percy and I are absolutely certain, and that is that Gretel was not to blame in any way. She is as true as steel, and devoted to us all. Something terrible must have happened, but it was through no fault of hers.” “Then you don’t believe that silly story about talking with a strange man in the street?” “I think there was probably some mistake. The man may merely have stopped to ask Gretel a question. I am sorry such a story should have been started, for, of course, people will talk. There is such a strong feeling against all Germans just now, and poor Gretel’s German name tells against her, but I am sure that none of the child’s friends will ever believe anything wrong about her. I have had several such dear letters from the schoolgirls. I was just answering a beautiful one from Miss Minton herself. We had no idea what a favorite Gretel was; she was so gentle and modest, and never put herself forward in any way. I have kept all the letters, thinking you might like to read them.” “I should love to,” said Geraldine, “but--but, Mrs. Douaine, there is something that I think perhaps I ought to tell you first. I am afraid something did happen to Gretel one afternoon in New London.” Mrs. Douaine looked very much startled. “Why do you think so?” she asked. “Oh, Geraldine, you haven’t been keeping anything back that might have helped us, have you, dear?” Geraldine hid her face on her friend’s shoulder.