to go away for
her health. Unexpectedly I find that we are to go to-day. I
supposed it would not be for a week yet. I am so sorry not to
see you again, but I send you a little book that has helped me
to get acquainted with Jesus Christ. Perhaps it will help you
too. It is called 'My Best Friend.' I shall not forget to pray
always that you may find Him. He is so precious to me! I must
thank you in words, though I never can say it as it should be
said, for your very great kindness to me when I was in trouble.
God sent you to me, I am sure. Always gratefully your friend,

"ELIZABETH."

That was all, no date, no address. He was not hers, and she would hang out
no clues for him to find her, even if he wished. It was better so.

She sent the note and the little book to his address on Walnut Street; and
then after writing a note to her Grandmother Brady, saying that she was
going away for a long trip with Grandmother Bailey, she gave herself into
the hands of the future like a submissive but weary child.

The noon train to New York carried in its drawing-room-car Madam Bailey,
her granddaughter, her maid, and her dog, bound for Europe. The society
columns so stated; and so read Grandmother Brady a few days afterward. So
also read George Benedict, but it meant nothing to him.

When he received the note, his mind was almost as much excited as when he
saw the little brown girl and the little brown horse vanishing behind the
little brown station on the prairie. He went to the telephone, and
reflected that he knew no names. He called up his automobile, and tore up
to Flora Street; but in his bewilderment of the night before he had not
noticed which block the house was in, nor which number. He thought he knew
where to find it, but in broad daylight the houses were all alike for
three blocks, and for the life of him he could not remember whether he
had turned up to the right or the left when he came to Flora Street. He
tried both, but saw no sign of the people he had but casually noticed at
Willow Grove.

He could not ask where she lived, for he did not know her name. Nothing
but Elizabeth, and they had called her Bessie. He could not go from house
to house asking for a girl named Bessie. They would think him a fool, as
he was, for not finding out her name, her precious name, at once. How
could he let her slip from him again when he had just found her?

A