rtunities to play off his fun upon him. "Why, surely
there's something amiss. What's the good, Amos, of putting a spoonful
of salt into your gooseberry tart?"

Mr Huntingdon now looked round and stared at his elder son, who had by
this time partly recovered his self-possession. "Nothing serious, my
boy, I hope?" he said.

"I hope not, dear father. It's only about a little child that I take an
interest in; he seems to have got away from home, and his friends can't
find him."

"Is it one of my tenants' children?"

"No; it's a child that lives in a cottage on the Gavelby estate. We
have struck up a friendship. I ride up there sometimes, so they have
sent to me about him; and I will ride over after luncheon and see what
can be done."

Nothing more passed on the subject during the meal; but Miss
Huntingdon's watchful care of her nephew made her notice the deep lines
of anxiety which had gathered on the forehead of Amos, and her heart
ached for him, for she was sure that he was burdened with some
unexpected trouble connected with the work he had set himself to
accomplish. Dinner-time came, but Amos did not make his appearance.
Ten o'clock struck, but he still lingered. Never before had he been
absent for a night except when at school or college, or on a visit to
some friend; for his habits were most regular, and he always rose and
retired to rest early, his custom in this respect having been often the
subject of remark and merriment to Walter, who would say to his friends
that, "although Amos would never join in a lark, he had no objection to
rise with one; nor to lie down with a lamb, though he hadn't it in him
to skip like one." So when the family met next morning at breakfast,
and nothing had been seen or heard of Amos, there was a shade of anxiety
on every one's face.

"Where can the boy have been?" exclaimed Mr Huntingdon; "we never knew
him go off like this before.--Hasn't he sent any message of any kind,
Harry?"

"Not a word, sir, as far as I know."

"What's best to be done, then?--What do you say, Kate?" asked the
squire.

"Perhaps Walter can make inquiries," suggested his sister.

"Well," replied her nephew, "I wouldn't mind, but really I don't know
where to look exactly. I may be riding about all day, for he's gone
after the missing child, I suppose, so it will be no use looking for him
at the child's home. And, besides, I've an engagement to play lawn-
tennis and go to luncheon at the Worth