to employ herself with some
of her ordinary occupations, though all the time she kept up the
ceaseless watch. 'Mr. Dutton would not have said that without good
hope,' she averred, 'and I trust to him.'

Yet when four, five, six, eight, days had passed with no tidings, the
heart sickness grew almost more than she could bear, though she still
answered with spirit when her father again took to abusing the
umbrella-fellow for choosing to keep all in his own hands.

Even Annaple could not help saying to her husband that a precise, prim,
old bachelor was the very last person for a hunt in slums and the like.
The very sight of him would put the people on their guard. 'And think
of his fine words,' she added. 'I wish I could go! If I started with
a shawl over my head, yoked to a barrel-organ, I should have a far
better chance than he will. I declare, Mark, if he does not succeed
we'll do it. We'll hire an organ, whereon you shall play. Ah! you
shake your head. A musical education is not required, and I know I
shall do something desperate soon, if that dear little boy is not
found.'

CHAPTER XXXVI.

NUTTIE'S KNIGHT.

'The night came on and the bairnies grat,
Their minnie aneath the mools heard that.'

'LYNDHURST, 4th July.--Philip Dutton to Miss Egremont. Found.
Waterloo, 6.15.'

'I knew he would,' said Nuttie, with a strange quietness, but as she
tried to read it to her father her voice choked, and she had to hand it
to Annaple. But for the first time in her life she went up and
voluntarily kissed her father's forehead. And perhaps it was for the
first time in his life that the exclamation broke from him, 'Thank God!'

Perhaps it was well that the telegram had not come earlier in the day,
for Mr. Egremont was very restless, showing himself much shaken in
nerves and spirits before the time for driving to the station, which he
greatly antedated. Nuttie could hardly keep him in the carriage, and
indeed had to persuade him to return thither, when he had once sprung
out on the arrival of a wrong train.

And after all, when the train did come, his blue spectacles were
directed to the row of doors at the other end, and Nuttie was anxiously
trying to save him from being jostled, when a voice said 'Here!' and
close beside them stood Mr. Dutton, with a little boy by his side who
looked up in her face and said 'Sister!' It was said in a dreamy,
almost puzzled way, not with the ecstatic joy Nuttie had