ave a little
start, for Meg's remarks came back to her mind, filling her with
curiosity. Fortunately, no one was observing her, and her momentary
confusion passed unobserved in the gloom of the carriage. Not for
worlds would she have betrayed Meg.

"Effie dear," Mrs. Donaldson said sweetly, "have you the book
grandpapa gave you, and my umbrella?"

"Yes, mamma; here they are," Elsie returned, as readily as she could.
Never before had it seemed so difficult to bring out the word
"mamma" naturally.

It was the answer that Mrs. Donaldson wanted.

"Then we are quite ready," she returned. "Please do not detain us any
longer than you are obliged," she said haughtily to the man who held
the carriage door; "my little girl is very tired."

"Sorry for that," the stranger said, eyeing Elsie curiously. The
officer had been examining the various items of luggage, peering
under the seats, taking stock of everything. They seemed a trifle
undecided about something, Elsie thought.

When the man had completed his search, he turned to Elsie. "What is
your name, my little girl?" he asked kindly, but with his eyes fixed
upon her face.

"Effie Donaldson," Elsie replied, not daring for Duncan's sake to
speak the truth.

"How long have you known this lady?" he asked.

"It is mamma," Elsie answered, slowly and timidly, "and my Grandpapa
Donaldson."

The man said a few words in a low tone to the other, and then turned
again to the old gentleman.

"I am sorry to be obliged to detain you," he said, more respectfully
than he had hitherto spoken. "My directions are to take into custody
a lady and gentleman travelling from Edinburgh in a specially-engaged
compartment. The little girl is not mentioned in my warrant, but I
regret that she must be included. No doubt you will be able to set it
straight. I advise you to come quietly, and then no force will be
used."

"Come quietly, indeed! I refuse to come at all!" the old gentleman
exclaimed. "You are exceeding your authority, and will get yourself
into trouble. Read me your warrant."

Elsie listened silently while the officer read out something about a
lady dressed as a widow passing under the name of Thwaites, and a
gentleman, calling himself her brother, who had left the "Royal
Hotel" that morning, and travelled to London in a specially-engaged
carriage. This perplexed Elsie very much, for she remembered what Meg
had said of the gentleman she had been told to call Uncle William,
"th