for him a quarter of an hour, by Mr. Meadowcroft's own directions. John
Jago never appeared.

The night wore on, and still the absent man failed to return. Miss
Meadowcroft volunteered to sit up for him. Naomi eyed her, a little
maliciously I must own, as the two women parted for the night. I
withdrew to my room; and again I was unable to sleep. When sunrise
came, I went out, as before, to breathe the morning air.

On the staircase I met Miss Meadowcroft ascending to her own room. Not
a curl of her stiff gray hair was disarranged; nothing about the
impenetrable woman betrayed that she had been watching through the
night.

"Has Mr. Jago not returned?" I asked.

Miss Meadowcroft slowly shook her head, and frowned at me.

"We are in the hands of Providence, Mr. Lefrank. Mr. Jago must have
been detained for the night at Narrabee."

The daily routine of the meals resumed its unalterable course.
Breakfast-time came, and dinner-time came, and no John Jago darkened
the doors of Morwick Farm. Mr. Meadowcroft and his daughter consulted
together, and determined to send in search of the missing man. One of
the more intelligent of the laborers was dispatched to Narrabee to make
inquiries.

The man returned late in the evening, bringing startling news to the
farm. He had visited all the inns, and all the places of business