kely. It is
better than sitting here doing nothing."

Max frowned and hesitated. "Or--er--or you might go to Fraulein, and
I'll take the Larches! It is a long walk for you after your journey,"
he suggested, with a sudden access of politeness, "and there seems more
probability that Fraulein may be able to help us. You could go there
and back in a short time."

"Just as you like, of course. It is all the same to me," returned
Arthur, in a tone which plainly intimated that it was nothing of the
sort. Mrs Asplin looked from one to the other of the flushed faces,
realising that even in the midst of anxiety the image of beautiful,
golden-haired Rosalind had a Will-o'-the-wisp attraction for the two big
lads; but her husband saw nothing of what lay behind the commonplace
words, and said calmly--

"Very well, then, Max, be off with you as fast as you can go. Find out
if Robert has said anything about the work which he has had on hand;
find out his address in town, and, if possible, where a telegram would
reach him this evening. Arthur will call at Fraulein's lodgings; and,
Oswald, you might go with him so far, and walk through the village. Ask
at old Mrs Gilpin's shop if Miss Saville has been there, but don't talk
about it too much; we don't want to make more fuss than we can help.
Keep your eyes open!"

The three lads departed without further delay; the vicar put on his coat
and hat preparatory to searching the garden and the lanes in the
immediate neighbourhood, and the womenkind of the household settled down
to an hour of painful waiting.

Mrs Asplin lay back in her chair, with her hand to her head, now
silent, now breaking out into impetuous lamentations. The fear lest any
accident had happened to Peggy paralysed her with dread. Her thoughts
went out to far-away India; she imagined the arrival of the ominous
cablegram; pictured it carried into the house by a native servant; saw
the light die out of two happy faces at the reading of the fatal words.
"Oh, Peggy, Peggy!" she groaned. "Oh, the poor father--the poor mother!
What will I do? What will I do? Oh, Peggy, dearie, come back I come
back!"

Esther busied herself looking after a dozen little domestic
arrangements, to which no one else seemed capable of attendance, and
Mellicent laid her head on her mother's lap, and never ceased crying,
except for one brief interval, when she darted upstairs to peep inside
the old oak chest, prompted thereto by a sud