c loyalty of her townspeople. Until visited by
adversity, she had never even suspected that she ranked so high in their
esteem. Each day brought her some fresh proof of consideration and
sympathy from the good-hearted residents of the little city of her
birth. Not one slighting or detrimental comment against either herself
or Tom came to her ears. It was as though the entire populace had risen
to her standard in the name of friendship. She was now wholly content
that the sad affair was no longer a secret.

Yet even the undivided consideration of her townspeople could not serve
to throw a ray of light on the mystery. It was now the latter part of
September and not a word of encouragement had come from David Nesbit,
who had returned to the lumber country to pursue his lonely search until
Mr. Blaisdell should again join him. True, David kept the anxious
watchers fully informed of his movements, but the burden of his messages
was always, "Nothing new about poor Tom has come to light."

During these days of dreary uncertainty, Elfreda proved herself a
comforter indeed. Although a week had elapsed since she had taken up her
residence under the Harlowe's hospitable roof, she calmly announced her
intention to stay on and await developments. Her repeated cheery
assertion, "Everything will come out all right yet," did much to help
Grace maintain the hopeful stand she had forced herself to take. She
could hardly bear to have Elfreda out of her sight, so greatly had she
come to rely on her. On the other hand, Elfreda was supremely satisfied
with her role of guardian angel. She regarded Grace as the direct
inspiration to every good deed she had ever performed, and humbly
congratulated herself on being for once granted an opportunity to make
some small return for the countless favors she had received at Grace's
hands.

To Elfreda herself, however, it appeared that she had been able to do
very little. This thought was troubling her one hazy autumn afternoon as
the two girls silently ascended the steps to Haven Home, whither they
had walked through Upton Wood, to spend an hour or two. Elfreda was not
fond of these frequent visits to the House Behind the World. They were
invariably fraught with melancholy. Grace was always fairly cheerful at
the start, yet the moment her gray eyes glimpsed Haven Home the old,
wistful shadow crept into them.

Once inside the stately old house, her depression became even more
apparent. Haven Home was