e with them to these cousins of
theirs; they must have thought it extraordinary for two little girls to
be out alone so late.'

Still, on the whole, she did not seem so very frightened now. She drank
the water nurse brought, and went into the library, where the lamp was
lit, and the fire burning cheerfully.

'Barstow will be back immediately, no doubt?' she said to nurse.

'He'll be as quick as he can, I'm sure,' said nurse. 'But perhaps--if he
has gone on to the other house--it may be some little time.'

At that moment, however, we heard the area bell ring, and almost
immediately Barstow appeared. His face was rather red, and he seemed out
of breath--poor Barstow is getting pretty fat.

'Are they back?' he exclaimed. Then seeing mother, 'I beg your pardon,
ma'am. I just ran in to see if the young ladies were returned, for
they've not been at Mrs. Barry's--no one there has heard anything of
them. I got the address of the other lady's--Lady Nearn's----'

'Oh yes,' Hebe and I interrupted; 'that's the name.'

----'Just in case,' Barstow continued, 'they hadn't come in. But I
really begin to think we're on the wrong tack. Perhaps Miss Anne has
only gone to some shop, and it seemed making such a hue and cry to go
round to _another_ house, and not of our own acquaintances, you see,
ma'am,' he went on, 'and asking for the young ladies. I quite hoped to
find they were home.'

Mother considered. She kept her presence of mind, but I could see she
was growing really frightened.

'Could they have gone to get cakes for tea, for a surprise,' she said
suddenly, 'and have lost their way coming back? There's that German shop
in ---- Street, where there are such nice cakes.'

It was possible, but after all ---- Street was not very far off, and
Anne had sense enough to ask the way. And as the minutes went on, and no
ring came to the bell, we all looked at each other in increasing
trouble.

'You'd better go to Lady Nearn's, Barstow,' said mums at last, 'though
it seems such a mere chance. How could they have known what house it
was, scarcely having heard the name, and certainly not having been told
the number!'

That was what we all thought.

But Barstow was off--like a shot, I was going to say, but it wouldn't be
a very good description,--as like a shot as a stout elderly butler
_could_ be, we'll say.

And poor mums began walking up and down the room, squeezing her hands
together in a way she has when she's awfully worri