Two Little Travellers / A Story for Girls

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over him in her soothing voice. He was old enough to miss her, and to-day was not satisfied at being put off with only nurse. He had, besides, a new tooth coming-a tiny pearly thing, peeping like a speck of ivory from a bed of coral. Very pretty to look at, certain

atch if they were not coming before their dinner should be spoiled. And such a nice dinner as it was, too! Cook had arranged it as a surprise for them, because they were all by

ly it was really too bad of Master Darby to steal off that way without leave, and drag his little sister along with him. He should have nothing but dry bread for his tea, Perry decided. Then with a glance at the bassinet, where baby was soundl

d him; then, as the air was mild and the sun warm, she put on his coa

sound smacking, nurse said to herself; and only that she was not permitted to punish her charges in such a manner, a sound smacking Master Darby should have had-when nurse could catch him, that is to say. Now, however, she must go for them. Mrs. Grey would be thinking they were neglected in the absence of their aunts, and perhaps

-not since the Friday, said Mrs. Grey; and she was disappointed, because, having heard that the ladies were

all the afternoon. He was tired, heated, and hungry for his tea, and only laug

y, sure it's only the other day there that I found them wandered in Copsley Wood, like two motherless lambs! They were lost, the little 'un told me, quite lost! An' there they were s

conviction. "They'll have gone back after them squirrels that led them su

wild to get a squirrel; and Master Darby, he's that venturesome he would face anything. He doesn't know the meaning o

e for them to be in by themselves," said Mrs. Grey

him," she explained, hanging her head and playing with the fringe of baby's shawl; "and I said as how I'd never been in the wood. 'All the better,' says Jenkins, quite short, 'because that wood ain't no place for you, nor for any other nice young lady.' Oh, if they've

to nurse's speech wit

iff. "Her a lady-and young too! Why, she's eight-and-twenty if she's a day! An

ke sure how little of her feeling was real, how much assumed. But such distress was undoubtedl

er hurry home with the baby now. It's gettin' late for him to be out, pretty dea

"You get along as fast as ever you can, an' if the young shavers isn't at Firgrove afore you, send somebody up wi' a message. Then me an' T

up the hill again herself, flying as fast as fear and excitement could urge her, and reached the farm, panting and breathles

time broke the intense stillness of the lonesome place, while more than once they were alarmed by a soft something that brushed their face, as a big, downy white owl passed them by in search of its prey. In a dell hidden in the very heart of the wood they came upon what apparently had been the camping-ground of some wanderers-the gipsies probably, concerning whom the tales and rumours were so rife and so exaggerated of late. It must have been used quite recently, for where the fire had been built the wood ash was white and undisturbed; while the crusts, bones, an

to give over their search for the night; so, feeling footsore, and dish

And what would Captain Dene say-her master, whom she had solemnly promised to take good care of his motherless children? She had done her best, poor Perry; for although often impatient and unsympathetic with the little ones, she loved them devotedly, and would now willingly have imperilled her own

nurse wildly, pushing cook an

hinking that attending to his wants might distract her attention from her trouble. But nurse was not to be consoled thus. She could think of nothing except the calamity which had befallen the househ

to inquire if Perry had heard anything of the missing children. She had not

eeing the two in conversation, joined them. But he brought no comfort to their council with the tidings

s Joan down along the tow-path; but as they were accustomed seeing the pair trotting about by thems

n," said Mr. Grey, looking very grave, for his

drownded, dead drownded, both of them! O my poor lambs! why did I let you out of my sight for one minute? What w

e affairs of her small household, and making their plans for the day. Aunt Catharine was arranging everything in her usual capable way. Grannie nodded her head in approval, looking the very picture of a sweet, high-bred old lady; while Auntie Alice agreed to all her sister suggested, as was her placid wont. She appeared content

he hall door. Auntie Alice rose from the breakfast-table with a queer, fluttering feeling about her heart, and hurried to meet the messenger. She took the ru

Darby and Joan missi

ing lips. It was but the expression of a nameless dread which had weighed upon her ever since she started from Fir

was not a woman of many words, and made little outward sign of the sorrow that had suddenly

Guy! my so

as you please, smiling as sweetly as a couple of cherubs! Mr. Grey is alarming us needlessly. He and his wife are perfectly silly about those children! It was exactly the same when Guy was a boy. He had nothing to do but run up to Mrs. Grey for petting and sympathy whenever he made things too hot for himself at Firgrove. Well, if Darby has disobeyed me this time, after all I said,

only ordinary vagrants-who had been seen lately loitering about the neighbourhood, and whose appearance had given rise to the wildest and absurdest rumours. One cottager, it was said, had lost all her hens; another missed a young pig out of its sty, while the ailing infant of a third had died in convulsions soon after the dark-faced female was at the door demanding a draught of milk! Mrs. Grey had suggested that perhaps the evil pair had kidnapped the pretty children, meaning to make use of them in some way-for such things happened, if one was to believe all that appeared in the newspapers-or in order to draw a reward out of their friends. Her husband

ust seek the little ones-whether about it or in it only time should tell. Miss Alice wept softly, while Miss Turner was wondering, with a terrible weight on her heart, what she shou

two other men, set off to follow the clue furnished by Tom Brook's children. At Firgrove the household waited, eager for news, w

ground below the tow-path. On, on they went, only pausing for a few minutes now and again, to take a rest or to hold a consultation. They questioned closely every pedestrian whom they met by the way, but nobody could give them any tidings to help them in their sea

most, and two of them had little ones of their own snug and safe by their cottage hearths at that dull evening hour. They consequently felt keenly the sorrow that threatened the absent father; also the

the planks were supported. Mr. Grey stood somewhat apart from the others, and gazed idly at the shadows cast by the dimly-burning lamp, as they swayed backwards and forwards, up and down, with each slow movement of the water; yet he did not actually see anything. He was thinking of the winsome wee pair whom he had come upon a few days be

flooring of the crazy old wharf-and his heart leaped in his breast with a throb of sickening fear. He stooped over the water, reached forward hi

of a stream-only a child's sailor-hat, which had once been white, but was now sadly discoloured, soaked with water, and hanging almost in pieces. A faded blue

er faces the other men peered over his shoulder, and then, sure enough, they saw what they feared. For there, inside the hat, stitched to t