her tawny hair flying in the wind and Honey-Sweet clasped in her arms.

According to its habit, the Southern train was behind time. Instead of
early afternoon, it was twilight when Miss Drayton and Pat reached their
station. Dusk was deepening into drizzling night when their cab set them
down at the gate of the 'Home.' They were ushered through the prim hall
into the superintendent's office. Miss Farlow rose from her desk.

"You are in charge of this institution?" asked Miss Drayton.

"I am Miss Farlow, the superintendent."

"I am Miss Drayton from Washington City. This is my nephew, Patrick
Patterson. We are friends of Anne Lewis."

"You have news of her?" asked Miss Farlow, starting eagerly forward.

"News? We have come to see her--to take her home with us--to give her a
home," explained Miss Drayton.

Miss Farlow sank back on her chair, and buried her face in her hands.
The quiet, reserved woman was weeping bitterly. "If we only had her, if
we only had her!" she moaned. "Poor little motherless, fatherless one!
Oh, it was my fault. I failed in my duty. I tried to do right by her.
God knows I did."

"What is the matter? What do you mean?" Miss Drayton was frightened. Was
the child dead? injured? She dared not ask. "Anne--where is she?" she
faltered at last.

"I don't know." Miss Farlow was recovering her self-control and
struggling to speak steadily. "She started on a holiday trip with some
friends. On the way she disappeared. Absolutely disappeared. No one
knows where nor when. The nurse saw her last at Westcot, a few stations
from Lynchburg. The train was in the city before she was missed."

"We will find her. We must," cried Miss Drayton.

Miss Farlow was hopeless. "Not a stone has been left unturned. That was
two weeks ago. The trainmen were all questioned. Telegrams were sent to
every station. Mr. Marshall has spared neither trouble nor expense. No
one saw her get off. There is no trace of her. None. If the earth had
opened and swallowed her, she could not have disappeared more
completely. When you came in--strangers--and mentioned her name--my one
thought and hope was that you had found her." Miss Farlow sobbed. "I
think of her day and night. A little lost child! homeless! friendless!
all alone!"

"Don't, don't!" Pat put up his hand as if to ward off a blow. He
hurried from the room and crouched down in a corner of the cab,
staring out into the wet night. Somewhere in the darkness--in the
rain--home