nside out, and shook, with trembling hands, its astonishing contents.
The bonds were not there: they had been stolen, and three copies of the
"Sunday Visitor" had been inserted in their place.

* * * * *

Very early on the following morning a dismal-faced middle-aged couple
might have been seen riding away from Josiah's house. It was the
Ducklows returning home, after their fruitless, their worse than
fruitless, journey. No entreaties could prevail upon them to prolong
their visit. It was with difficulty even that they had been prevented
from setting off immediately on the discovery of their loss, and
travelling all night, in their impatience to get upon the track of the
missing bonds.

"There'll be not the least use in going to-night," Josiah had said. "If
they were stolen at the bank, you can't do anything about it till
to-morrow. And even if they were taken from your own house, I don't see
what's to be gained now by hurrying back. It isn't probable you'll ever
see 'em again, and you may just as well take it easy,--go to bed and
sleep on it, and get a fresh start in the morning."

So, much against their inclination, the unfortunate owners of the
abstracted bonds retired to the luxurious chamber Laura gave them, and
lay awake all night, groaning and sighing, wondering and surmising, and
(I regret to add) blaming each other. So true it is, that "modern
conveniences," hot and cold water all over the house, a pier-glass, and
the most magnificently canopied couch, avail nothing to give
tranquillity to the harassed mind. Hitherto the Ducklows had felt great
satisfaction in the style their daughter, by her marriage, was enabled
to support. To brag of her nice house and furniture and two servants was
almost as good as possessing them. Remembering her rich dining-room and
silver service and porcelain, they were proud. Such things were enough
for the honor of the family; and, asking nothing for themselves, they
slept well in their humblest of bed-chambers, and sipped their tea
contentedly out of clumsy earthen. But that night the boasted style in
which their "darter" lived was less appreciated than formerly: fashion
and splendor were no longer a consolation.

"If we had only given the three thousan' dollars to Reuben!" said
Ducklow, driving homewards with a countenance as long as his whip-lash.
"'Twould have jest set him up, and been some compensation for his
sufferin's and losses goin' to th