f there had been the sound of just one
gay little high-pitched voice in the house, it would have been so much
less forlorn. And that a man should be compelled to carry about in his
breast the thought that he had seemed to wrong and desert a child was
not a thing one could face.

"Come, come," he said in his cheery voice; "we'll find her yet."

"We must begin at once. No time must be lost," Mr. Carrisford fretted.
"Have you any new suggestion to make--any whatsoever?"

Mr. Carmichael felt rather restless, and he rose and began to pace the
room with a thoughtful, though uncertain face.

"Well, perhaps," he said. "I don't know what it may be worth. The
fact is, an idea occurred to me as I was thinking the thing over in the
train on the journey from Dover."

"What was it? If she is alive, she is somewhere."

"Yes; she is SOMEWHERE. We have searched the schools in Paris. Let us
give up Paris and begin in London. That was my idea--to search London."

"There are schools enough in London," said Mr. Carrisford. Then he
slightly started, roused by a recollection. "By the way, there is one
next door."

"Then we will begin there. We cannot begin nearer than next door."

"No," said Carrisford. "There is a child there who interests me; but
she is not a pupil. And she is a little dark, forlorn creature, as
unlike poor Crewe as a child could be."

Perhaps the Magic was at work again at that very moment--the beautiful
Magic. It really seemed as if it might be so. What was it that brought
Ram Dass into the room--even as his master spoke--salaaming
respectfully, but with a scarcely concealed touch of excitement in his
dark, flashing eyes?

"Sahib," he said, "the child herself has come--the child the sahib felt
pity for. She brings back the monkey who had again run away to her
attic under the roof. I have asked that she remain. It was my thought
that it would please the sahib to see and speak with her."

"Who is she?" inquired Mr. Carmichael.

"God knows," Mr. Carrrisford answered. "She is the child I spoke of. A
little drudge at the school." He waved his hand to Ram Dass, and
addressed him. "Yes, I should like to see her. Go and bring her in."
Then he turned to Mr. Carmichael. "While you have been away," he
explained, "I have been desperate. The days were so dark and long. Ram
Dass told me of this child's miseries, and together we invented a
romantic plan to help her. I suppose it was a childish thing t