ry little about that gentleman, excepting that when very young he had
gone to America to seek his fortune; that in time he had married a
well-to-do young American lady and had then come back to settle in
England; that he soon had lost everything, being very reckless and
unfortunate in business; that his wife, in her poverty, had received
help from somebody travelling in Prussia; and that the couple had been
sent for to meet this friend or relative at Havre, when his little girl
was not two months old, and all had sailed for America together. Donald
knew as much as this already. If, fifteen years before, they could give
Mr. Reed no description of the baby, they certainly could give Donald no
satisfaction now. So far from gathering from them any new facts of
importance, in regard to their lost kinsman and his wife and child, they
had all this time, as Donald wrote to Mr. Reed, been very active in
forgetting him and his affairs. Still, Donald succeeded in reviving
their old promise that, if anything _should_ turn up that would throw
any light on the history of "poor Robertson's" family, they would lose
no time in communicating the fact--this time to Mr. Reed's nephew,
Donald.

No word had been heard from them up to the evening that Dorothy's
letter arrived at Aix-la-Chapelle; no satisfactory response, either, had
been called forth by the Ellen Lee advertisement; and Donald, who had
had, as we know, a disappointing interview with his father's physician,
was weary and almost discouraged. Moreover, every effort to find the
store at which the gold chain had been purchased was in vain. But now
that Dorothy's letter had come, bringing him new energy and courage, the
outlook was brighter. There still were many plans to try. Surely some of
them must succeed. In the first place, he would translate his Ellen-Lee
advertisement into French, and insert it in Paris and Aix-la-Chapelle
newspapers. Strange that no one had thought of doing this before. Then
he would--no, he wouldn't--but, on the other hand, why not send--And at
this misty point of his meditations he fell asleep, to dream, not as one
would suppose, of Dorothy, but of the grand Cathedral standing in place
of the Chapel from which this special Aix obtained its name; of the
wonderful hot springs in the public street; of the baths, the music, and
the general stir and brightness of this fascinating old Prussian city.

CHAPTER XXXII.

DONALD MAKES A DISCOVERY.

THE ne