listened to it. It was very pleasant to listen to it in that cozy little
room. He poked the blazing coals, sipped his red port, stroked pussy,
who bore a most absurd feline resemblance to himself, and took up his
paper again.

For the second time he read over a brief paragraph among the
"Personals:"

"LEFT HER HOME.--On the fifteenth instant--whether forcibly or of her own
free will is unknown--a young lady of sixteen years, by name Mollie Dane.
Is undersized, very slight of figure, a profusion of light, curling hair,
large blue eyes, handsome features, and remarkably self-possessed and
straightforward of manner. Was dressed as a bride, in white silk and
lace. Any information concerning her will be thankfully received and
liberally rewarded by her afflicted friends. Apply personally or by
letter to MR. CARL WALRAVEN, No ---- Fifth Avenue, New York."

Very slowly the Reverend Mr. Rashleigh read this paragraph to its end.
He laid down the paper and looked thoughtfully at the cat.

"Extraordinary!" murmured the Reverend Raymond, half aloud--"most
extraordinary! Like a scene in a novel; like nothing in real life. Has
the earth opened and swallowed her up? Has she gone off with some
younger and handsomer lover? Or has she been decoyed from home by the
machinations of some enemy? She had many, poor child! That unfortunate
Sir Roger is like a man insane. He is offering half his fortune for her
recovery. It is really very, very extraordinary. Quite a romance in real
life. Come in!"

There had been a tap at the study door; a maid-servant entered.