ing. She's
a good girl, taking her all in all, is Sarah, and being my own niece,
of course I put up with a few things from her which I would not take
from a stranger."

"She spoke pretty sharp this morning about you, Mrs. Flint, to my
continual reader," said Mrs. Mortlock; "I wouldn't take no airs, if I
was you, from Sarah Maria. Miss Slowcum, I'll trouble you for the
pepper, please. Seeing that I'm afflicted, and cannot now use my
eyesight, I think there might be a little consideration in the small
matter of pepper shown to me, but feel as I will I can find it in no
way handy. Thank you, Miss Slowcum; sorry to trouble you, I'm sure."

"She grows more snappish each day," whispered Miss Slowcum to Mrs.
Dredge; but just then the attention of all the good ladies was
diverted by a ringing peal at the hall door-bell, followed by eager
voices in the hall, and then by the entrance of Poppy, alias Sarah,
who broke in upon the quiet of high tea with a red and startled face.

"An awful trouble has happened," she began, breathlessly. "Oh, ladies,
you'll pardon me, but this is no time for standing on ceremony, when
my own darling little lady, Miss Daisy Mainwaring, has gone and left
her sheltering home."

"Good gracious! my continual reader's little sister!" exclaimed Mrs.
Mortlock. "Left her home! you must be mistaken, Sarah Jane."

"No, ma'am, it's a most sorrowful fact," said poor Poppy, who looked
terribly dejected, and nearly sobbed as she spoke; "the other two dear
young ladies has come for me, and I must go back with them. I'm
sorry, Aunt Flint, to part again so soon, but this is unexpected, and
my duty lies with my young ladies."

"Your duty lies with your aunt, miss," here exclaimed the exasperated
Mrs. Flint. "Sarah, I was taking your part, but your airs are now past
standing. Ladies three, I feel convinced that this story is all a
make-up. I don't believe for a moment the child has gone away. It's a
make-up of Sarah's, who is turning into a most wicked girl."

"I don't believe it," here exclaimed Miss Slowcum. "Sarah Bertha has
spoken the truth, I feel convinced. I had a warning dream last night.
I dreamt of white horses, and that always signifies very great
trouble. It's my belief that the poor dear innocent little child has
been murdered!"

"Murdered!" almost screamed Mrs. Mortlock. "Miss Slowcum, I'll thank
you to come and take the seat next me, my dear, and tell me all your
reasons in full for making this m