caring for the
fretful baby a long time; and when another, a sad mother, unable
longer to control her grief, moaned out, "My child will die before I
can get to her," this woman was the one who went to her with words of
comfort. Ruey's poor perturbed heart envied that calm face. She felt
well-nigh distracted, not so much at the fact that she was cold and
hungry, but what would Philip think when he returned and found her
gone? No one knew where; not even a neighbour had the least
intimation of her whereabouts. What a night of horrors he must have
had! Oh, to be obliged to sit there and wait when she felt like
flying! She heard the woman with the Bible whisper to the poor
mother, "Pray; that will surely help you." "Perhaps it would help
me," thought Ruey. She was not used to praying, but she needed help.
So she put her tired head down, and whispered a request for
deliverance.

What did Philip do? He essayed to walk into his house. The door was
locked, and there was no response to his repeated rings. He tried
other doors with no better success; then he visited his neighbours.
They could give him no clue. He came back and stood in a dazed way on
his own steps, looking up and down the street. He went down into the
town and peered into the stores, but no Ruey. He called upon her most
intimate friends--they didn't know she was absent. He racked his
brain; was she out to tea? but she expected him home that very day.
As the evening advanced he began to be thoroughly alarmed. Perhaps
she had met with some horrible fate in her own home. He forced the
door and entered. The pretty rooms were in exquisite order. He
searched wildly about for some scrap of paper that might explain the
mystery. Wherever she was, she had evidently been gone some time; the
fires were dead and cold. He rushed down into the town again and
consulted detectives, who suggested elopement as an explanation.
Whereupon his anger rose to a white heat, and he left them.

Another idea struck him. Joanna must know something of this strange
affair. She lived in the country. The polar wave had, by this time,
reached that region. In the face of a blinding storm Mr. Thorne drove
at a rapid pace to Joanna's home. The sleepy girl, when roused, could
at first give but an exasperating "Nix" to his eager questions.
Finally from her broken English he gathered that her mistress had
gone away on the cars; had directed her to come back to her duties
that very afternoon. She did