er that
she declares that she cannot see you this evening.'

Mrs. Morton went, and presently brought word that Ida was horrified at
hearing that little Michael was not with the Joneses. She had trusted
Louisa to treat him kindly, and only dispose of him to some of those
Canadian farmers, who seemed to have an unlimited appetite for adopted
children, and the last hope was that this might have been the case,
though opportunities could have been few on the way to Toronto.

Ida had cried over the tidings. It must have been worse than she had
ever intended that the child should be treated; and the shock was great
both to her and to her mother.

Mrs. Morton really seemed quite broken down, both by sorrow and fear for
the boy, and by the shame, the dread of the story getting into the
papers, and the sense that she could never go on living at Westhaven; and
her brother-in-law quite overwhelmed her by saying that he should do all
in his power to prevent publicity, and that he entirely exonerated her
from all blame in the matter.

'Ah, Frank dear,' she said, 'you are so good, it makes me feel what a
sinful woman I am! I don't mean that I ever gave in for a moment to that
nonsense of poor Ida's which was her only bit of excuse. No one that had
ever been a mother could, you know; but I won't say that I did not
grumble at my boy losing his chances.'

'I don't wonder!'

'And--and I never would listen to you and Mary about poor Ida. I let her
idle and dress, and read all those novels, and it is out of them she got
that monstrous notion. You little know what I have gone through with
that girl, Frank, so different from the other two. Oh! if I could only
begin over again!'

'Perhaps,' said Frank, full of pity, 'this terrible shock may open her
eyes, and by God's blessing be the beginning of better things.'

'Oh, Frank, you are a perfect angel ever to bear the sight of us again!'
cried the poor woman, ever violent in her feelings and demonstrations.
'Hark! What's that?--I can't see any one.'

'Please, ma'am, it's Miss Rollstone, with a letter for his Lordship.'

CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE CLUE

'BEST OF ROSES,--

'I don't know where my uncle is, so please send him this. I got to
Toronto all right, and had not much trouble in finding out the
steady-going Jones, who is rather a swell, chief mate on board the
_British Empress_. He was a good deal taken aback by my story, and
said that his br