“Come in, you silly boy!  Are you playing bo-beep?  I don’t do such things since my daughter is six years old, I would have you to understand.”

Mr. Legrange, forcing a laugh and a careless tone, came forward as she spoke, and, stooping to kiss her, asked,—­

“And where is your daughter, my love?”

“’Toinette?  Oh!  I suppose she is with Susan,” began Mrs. Legrange carelessly; and then, as something in her husband’s voice or manner attracted her attention, she drew back, and hurriedly looked into his face, crying,—­

“O Paul! what is it?  What has happened?  Is ’Toinette hurt?  Where is she?”

“Be quiet, darling; don’t be alarmed.  Wait till we know more.—­Susan, come up here,” called Mr. Legrange; and Susan, with her face buried in her apron, and sobbing as if her heart would break, crept timidly up the stairs and into the room.

At sight of her, Mrs. Legrange turned pale, and clung to her husband for support.

“O Susan! what is it?  Tell me quick!”

“She’s gone, ma’am, and I don’t know where!” sobbed the nurse.

“Gone!  What, ’Toinette gone!  Lost, do you mean?” cried the mother wildly, while her pale cheeks flushed scarlet, and her soft eyes glittered with terror.

“Oh!  I don’t know, ma’am; but I can’t find her.”

“Lost!  What, ’Toinette lost!” repeated the mother in the same wild tone, and trying to tear herself away from her husband’s detaining arms.  But, soothing her as he would a child, Mr. Legrange, by a few calm and well-directed questions, drew from both mistress and maid all that was to be known of ’Toinette’s disappearance, and, when the whole was told, said,—­

“Well, Susan, you are not to blame.  You merely obeyed your mistress’s directions, and need not feel that this misfortune is at all your fault.  No doubt ’Toinette has gone out by herself, and is, for the moment, lost, but, I trust, will soon be found.  You may go at once to the houses of the neighbors whose children she has been in the habit of visiting.  Be as quick as you can about it; and, if you do not find her, come directly home, and I will warn the police.  Send James up to me as you go down.”

“Yes, sir,” said Susan, a little comforted; and, as she closed the door, Mr. Legrange returned to his wife, and, clasping her tenderly in his arms, kissed the burning cheeks and glittering eyes that frightened him, until the dangerous calm broke up in a gracious flood of tears and wild sobs of, “My child!—­O my little child!”

“Hush, darling, hush!  You must be calm, or I cannot leave you,—­cannot go to look for her.  I will not leave you so, even to search for her.”

“Yes, yes, go!  I will try—­O Paul, Paul! do go and look for her!”

“When I see you calmer, love; not till then;” and the tender-hearted man could himself have wept to see the heroic efforts of that delicate nature to control itself and put his fears to rest.  He still was soothing her, when, with a tap at the door, entered James, followed by Susan, who hurriedly announced that ’Toinette was not to be heard of at any of the neighbors, and asked where she should go next.