No: she was not there!

The library, the bath-room, the chambers, the nursery again, the
servants' chambers, the kitchen, laundry, pantries, the very cellar!

No, no, no! 'Toinette was in none of them. 'Toinette was not in any
nook of the whole wide house, that, without her, seemed so empty and
desolate. Standing in one of the upper entries, mute and bewildered,
Susan heard a latch-key turn in the front-door lock, and presently
Mr. Legrange's pleasant voice speaking in the hall. A sudden hope
rushed into Susan's heart. The child might possibly have gone to
meet her father, and was now returned with him. She rushed down
stairs as fast as her feet could carry her; but in the hall stood
only Mr. Legrange, talking to James, who had some message to deliver
to him.

As Susan flew down the stairs, the master turned and looked at her
in some surprise.

"Be careful, Susan: you nearly fell then. Is any thing the matter?"

"Miss 'Toinette, sir: I can't find her, high nor low!" gasped Susan.

"Can't find her! Good heavens! you don't mean to say she's lost!"
exclaimed the father, turning, and staring at the nurse in dismay.

"Oh! I don't know, sir, I'm sure; but I can't find her," cried
Susan, wildly bursting into tears.