to
welcome Flukey to his first meal at the table and to learn that the
deputy had been withdrawn. When no voice answered her knock, Ann turned
the handle of the door and peeped in. Fledra's bed was open, and looked
as if its occupant had just got up. Miss Shellington passed through to
the bathroom, and called. She ran back hastily to the bed and put her
hand upon it. The sheets were cold, while the pillow showed only a faint
impression where Fledra's dark head had rested. Miss Shellington paused
and glanced about, fright taking the place of expectancy on her face.
She hurried to the open window and looked out. Then she rushed to the
kitchen and questioned the servants. None of them had seen Fledra, all
were earnestly certain that the girl had not been about the house during
the morning. Ann thought of Floyd, and for the nonce her fears were
forced aside. In spite of her anxiety, she had a smile on her lips as
she entered the breakfast-room and took her seat opposite the boy.

"We'll have to eat without Sister this morning," she said gently to the
convalescent. "She's a tired little girl."

"She'd be glad to see me here," said Floyd wistfully. "Sister Ann,
what's the matter with Fledra?"

Miss Shellington would have given much to have been able to answer this
question. Finally her alarm became so strong that she left her breakfast
unfinished, and, unknown to Floyd, instituted a systematic search for
the girl. Many were the excuses she made to the waiting young brother as
the day lengthened hour by hour. Again and again he demanded that
Fledra be brought to him. At length the parrying of his questions by
Miss Shellington aroused his suspicions, so that he grew nervous and
fretful. Five o'clock came, and yet no tidings of the girl. Ann's
anxiety had now become distraction; for her brother's absence threw upon
her shoulders the responsibility of the girl's disappearance, and the
care of Floyd should he suffer a relapse. Her perturbation became so
unbearable that she put her pride from her, and sought the aid of
Everett Brimbecomb.

She called him on the telephone, and, when his voice answered her
clearly over the wire, she felt again all her old desire to be with him;
her agitation and uncertainty increased her longing.

"Everett, I'm in dreadful trouble. Can't you come over a moment?"

"Of course, dear girl. I'll come right away."

Not many minutes later Ann herself ushered Everett into the
drawing-room, where she