oard with Ben's aunt."

"And you don't know where she lives? You don't know the name of
the town."

Emma shook her head.

"My poor sister has done great mischief," said the young lady gravely.
"I must do my best to remedy it."

They went out into the street together.

Meanwhile, Ben, in great trouble of mind, remained in the
neighborhood of the monument for ten minutes or more.

"Perhaps the lady has taken Emma on a little walk," he thought.
"Perhaps she thought I wouldn't be down so soon."

Ben felt that it was very inconsiderate, but he would not at first
believe that there was anything really wrong. But when ten
minutes has passed he became alarmed, and began to blame
himself.

"Aunt was right," he thought. "I wasn't fit to be trusted with the care
of a little girl. What shall I say to Mr. Manning? What shall I do?"

He looked about him in despairing bewilderment. Streets radiated
from the monument in several different directions. Which should
he take? If he took any, there was not more than one chance in
four that it would prove the right one.

He was still standing there when the gentleman who had gone up with
him descended.

"Where is the little girl?" he asked.

Ben explained his trouble.

"Don't be alarmed, my boy," said the gentleman, in a tone of
sympathy; "I will help you. Sooner or later we shall hear of
the child."

"What shall I do?" asked Ben.

"It is possible the child may be brought back. I will remain here to
receive her if she comes, and you may go and search for her. Come
back in about half-an-hour."

Ben started on his quest, and with feverish haste he explored street
after street, but in vain. With sad heart he retraced his steps to the
monument. What was his joy to find Emma returned, and in charge
of the gentleman he had left behind and another lady.

An explanation was given, to which Ben paid little attention, such was
his joy at the recovery of his young charge.

"What time is it, sir?" he inquired of his companion.

"Five minutes to five."

"Then we are too late for the train," exclaimed Ben, in dismay.

Chapter XVIII

The Envelope

"What train?" asked the gentleman.

"The five-o'clock train to Milltown."

"Is that the last train?"

"Yes, sir."

"You will have to wait till to-morrow. Will it make much
difference?"

Ben blushed.

"I shall have to stay at a hotel," he said uncomfortably,
"and I don't think I have money enough. I