ere was the restraint of courtesy towards her,
such as had worn out towards his daughter, and besides her sanguine
optimist spirit never became so depressed as did poor Nuttie's. Mark
went by day to his work, but came back to dine at his uncle's, hear the
reports, and do what he could for him; and meantime Annaple spent the
chief part of the day in aiding Nuttie and Mr. Egremont, while her baby
really showed signs of improvement in nurse's keeping. And so the days
went on, while every endeavour was made to trace the child, but with no
result but bitter disappointment. Twice, strayed children, younger
than Alwyn--one even a girl--were brought as the lost boy, and the
advertisements bore fruit in more than one harassing and heartless
correspondence with wretches who professed to be ready to restore the
child, on promises of absolute secrecy, and sums of money sent
beforehand, with all sorts of precautions against interference from the
police.

The first of these created great excitement, and the pursuit was
committed to Mr. Dutton. When it proved abortive, Mr. Egremont's
disappointment and anger were great, and he could not be persuaded that
all was not the fault of Mr. Dutton's suspicion and precaution in
holding back the money, nor could any one persuade him that it was mere
imposture. When another ill-written enigmatical letter arrived, he
insisted that it was from the same quarter, and made Broadbent conduct
the negotiations, with the result that after considerable sums had been
paid in circuitous fashions, the butler was directed to a railway arch
where the child would be deposited, and where he found a drab-coloured
brat of whom he disposed at the nearest police station, after which he
came home savagely disgusted.

Nuttie was not much less so at what she felt as a slight to Mr. Dutton
as well as at the failure. 'When you are doing so much for us. We
deserve that you should do nothing more,' she said with tears shining
in her eyes.

'Do not talk in that way,' he answered. 'You know my feeling for the
dear little fellow himself, and--'

'Oh yes,' interrupted Nuttie, 'I do trust to that! Nobody--not the
most indifferent person, but must long to save him. Yes, I know it was
doing you a wicked injustice to fancy that you could take offence in
that way at a father in such trouble. Please forgive me, Mr. Dutton.'

'As if I had anything to forgive. As if there were anything on earth
that could come before