assistants, and poor broken-hearted Susan, looked into each other's
wan, worn faces, they found nothing there but discouragement, and
almost hopeless despair.

Mrs. Legrange who had not eaten or slept since 'Toinette's
disappearance, was already too ill to sit up, but insisted upon
remaining dressed, and waiting in the drawing-room for the reports
that some one of those engaged in the search brought almost hourly
to the house. Her husband, looking like the ghost of his former
self, wandered incessantly from his own home to the police-office
and back again, each time through some new street, and peering
curiously into the face of every child he met, that more than one of
them ran frightened home to tell their mothers that they had met a
crazy man, who stared at them as if he would eat them up.

And yet no clew, no faintest trace, of the little 'Toinette, who lay
tossing in her fever-dreams upon good Mrs. Ginniss's humble bed,
while the young doctor day by day shook his head more sadly over
her, and said to his own heart that it was only by God's special
mercy she could ever rise from that cruel illness.






CHAPTER XI.

A TRACE AND A SEARCH.