“She is going to faint,” she heard a voice say, which sounded as if it came from somewhere a long way off, and then she found herself lying on the sofa with Mrs. Becker bathing her forehead, and Mr. Becker looking down at her, with stern, angry eyes. “Do you feel better?” Mrs. Becker inquired anxiously. “I--I think so,” faltered Gretel, sitting up, and pushing the wet hair out of her eyes. She was dimly conscious of being very untidy and dishevelled. She had never undressed since that day, ages ago, when she left New London; neither had her hair been combed or brushed. “She needs more air,” Mrs. Becker said to her husband in German. “The air in there is stifling.” “I know it,” returned her husband, “but it cannot be helped.” Then, turning to Gretel, he added: “Did my wife tell you why I wished to see you?” Gretel shook her head. “It was because I thought you might enjoy reading the morning paper,” said the man, with a disagreeable laugh. “There is something in it that I am sure will interest you.” Gretel was silent. The better air was beginning to revive her a little, but she still felt very dizzy and confused. Mr. Becker picked up a newspaper from the table, and held it out to her. “You can find it easily,” he said. “What I want you to read is on the front page.” Gretel took the paper and sat gazing blankly at it. She could make nothing of the letters that danced before her eyes. “Shall I read it to you?” Mr. Becker asked, and without waiting for a reply, he began reading in the same sneering, disagreeable voice. “It is now generally believed that Gretel Schiller, the fifteen-year-old girl, whose mysterious disappearance on July fifth has caused such widespread interest and excitement, left her home voluntarily to join some German friend or friends. She is known to have been seen in earnest conversation with a man, supposed to have been a German, in New London, about ten days previous to her disappearance. The girl was at that time visiting in New London, and her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Paul Chester, well known in this city, admit that she never mentioned this clandestine meeting, although Mrs. Chester was in the town at the same time, and they had only separated for a few minutes. This evidence is likely to throw an entirely new light upon the affair, and it is said that Miss Schiller’s own family are now inclined to believe that her disappearance was a voluntary act.” Mr. Becker paused. Gretel was staring at the paper with wild, horrified eyes. “It isn’t true,” she gasped. “I don’t believe it. Percy and Barbara would never think such a thing.” “Read for yourself,” said Mr. Becker, pushing the paper towards her. But Gretel did not read. She only covered her face with her hands and burst into an agony of tears. They were the first she had shed in days. “It can’t be true, oh, it can’t be true!” moaned the poor child. “They know I wouldn’t; everybody knows it.”