eving,
no knowledge whatever of Fanny, then the more distressing inference
was that she had been enticed away by some stranger.

On his way home, Claire called again at the store of Jasper. It
occurred to him to ask there as to his absence from the city. The
reply he received was in agreement with Mrs. Jasper's assertion. He
had left town on the previous day.

"Where has he gone?" he inquired.

"To Reading, I believe," was the answer.

"Will he return soon?"

"Not for several days, I believe."

With a heavy heart, Claire bent his way homeward. He cherished a
faint hope that Fanny might have returned. The hope was vain. Here he
lingered but a short time. His next step was to give information
to the police, and to furnish for all the morning papers an
advertisement, detailing the circumstances attendant on the child's
abduction. This done, he again returned home, to console, the best
he could, his afflicted wife, and to wait the developments of the
succeeding day.

Utterly fruitless were all the means used by Claire to gain
intelligence of the missing child. Two days went by, yet not the
least clue to the mystery of her absence had been found. There was
no response to the newspaper advertisements; and the police confessed
themselves entirely at fault.

Exhausted by sleepless anxiety, broken in spirit by this distressing
affliction, and almost despairing in regard to the absent one, Mr. and
Mrs. Claire were seated alone, about an hour after dark on the evening
of the third day, when the noise of rumbling wheels ceased before
their door. Each bent an ear, involuntarily, to listen, and each
started with an exclamation, as the bell rang with a sudden jerk.
Almost simultaneously, the noise of wheels was again heard, and a
carriage rolled rapidly away. Two or three quick bounds brought Claire
to the door, which he threw open.

"Fanny!" he instantly exclaimed; and in the next moment the child was
in his arms, clinging to him, and weeping for joy at her return.

With a wonderful calmness, Mrs. Claire received Fanny from her
husband, murmuring as she did so, in a subdued, yet deeply gratified
voice--

"O, God! I thank thee!"

But this calmness in a little while gave way, and her overstrained,
but now joyful feelings, poured themselves forth in tears.

Poor child! She too had suffered during these three
never-to-be-forgotten days, and the marks of that suffering were sadly
visible in her pale, grief-touched count