# Nattie Nesmith/Chapter 4

RIDGET had breakfast on the table at an early hour, and Mr. Stone was abroad in the rain-washed streets before many of the village people were stirring. He looked into all the nooks and corners where a little girl might have found shelter for the night, and carefully searched such untenanted buildings as might have afforded a more permanent hiding-place. But he nowhere discovered the faintest trace of Nattie, and turned homeward with a sorrowful countenance.
As he was passing a small cottage not far from Mrs. Nesmith's residence, a lady came to the door ​and regarded him earnestly. He paused and bowed. The lady then descended the steps, and advanced toward the gate, saying:
"You will excuse me, I trust, sir, but I thought that you were Mr. Stone, Mrs. Nesmith's son-in-law."
"You are right, madam," was the response, "and this, I believe, is Mr. Hartwell's place."
"Yes, sir, and I am his wife. My husband told me that you called here last night, to inquire if Nattie, your wife's little sister, was with us, or if we knew any place where she would be likely to make an evening visit."
Mrs. Hartwell paused a moment, and then added: "I suppose you found her somewhere in the neighborhood."
"No, madam," was the answer; "I did not find her last evening, nor has she yet returned. The object of this early morning walk was to continue my search for her."
The lady looked surprised and alarmed.
​"I judged, from your appearance, that all was not right," she said. "Won't you come in a few moments? I have a little daughter, ill of throat disease, but more comfortable this morning, who is pretty well acquainted with Nattie's ways. She might think of some place that she would be likely to visit, which would not occur to older minds."
"Thank you, madam," said Mr. Stone? "I will come in with pleasure."
Mrs. Hartwell conducted the gentleman into a small, tidy apartment, where a little girl of mild, pleasant face was half sitting, half reclining in a commodious rocking-chair, made comfortable with blankets and pillows.
"This is Nattie Nesmith's brother-in-law, Hattie," said the mother. "He tells me that Nattie has not got home yet. I didn't know but you could think of some place where she might like to go and stay several days. Whom, among her young companions, does Nattie like ​best? And are there any of them with whom she would be likely to spend the night?"
The little sick girl seemed to hesitate, and colored slightly as she answered:
"I really could not say, mother. Nattie is older than I am, and I don't know a great deal about her. I have heard her say, though, that she didn't care much about any of the girls; and I don't think there is a single one whom she would go to spend a day and night with."
"Nattie is rather cross, sometimes, isn't she?" asked Mr. Stone, fixing a pleasant smile on the little girl's face.
Hattie colored again, and looked toward her mother.
"You may tell the gentleman all that he asks, to the best of your ability," said the mother. "He knows Nattie better than we do, and would not ask anything from a bad motive, or mere curiosity."
Thus encouraged, Hattie answered, after a ​moment's delay, in a soft voice and with downcast eyes:
"Nattie is not as good-natured as some girls, and perhaps that is the reason why a good many girls don't like her. Most of us are rather afraid of Nattie."
"Why atraid?" asked Mr. Stone.
"Oh, she is pretty strong, and pretty sharp."
"Does she ever strike then?"
"Sometimes; or else she laughs at us in a way that makes us feel as bad, nearly."
"Well, suppose that she had got angry with her folks at home, from some cause, and wanted to hide away from them for a few days, where do you think she would be most likely to go?"
Hattie thought a few moments, and then looking up, said:
"To the top of the house."
"But we have faithfully searched the house, from garret to cellar; she can not be anywhere concealed in it," said Mr. Stone. "Think again."
​"I mean the roof," said Hattie.
"The outside roof of the house!" exclaimed the gentleman. "How could a child like her reach it? Such a steep roof as ours, too! She could hardly cling to it."
"I know that it is steep," said Hattie; "but there is a place on the back side, which comes down pretty low and joins on to the shed. An apple-tree stands so close that anybody could jump from it into the hollow of the two roofs; and it is a real cosy, shady place in summer time. I know that Nattie stays up there ever so much then, for I have seen her there reading story books and eating apples. She asked me to come up, two or three times, but I hadn't courage. Then she called me a coward, and pelted me with apple cores till I ran away."
Mr. Stone thought a moment.
"I remember having seen an apple-tree at the corner of the house and shed," he said, at length; "but I never should have thought of a little girl's ​using it as a means of climbing the roofs. So you think Nattie may be hiding there now?"
"Why, I don't know," said Hattie. "I never should have thought that she would dare to stay up there all night, alone."
"And there was such a driving storm last night, too," said Mrs. Hartwell; "it is not likely that she would sit on a roof during a pouring rain."
"She does in the summer, sometimes," said Hattie, "though not in the night. You see the house roof shelves out over the shed, so she can crawl under and keep quite dry."
"The roof is quite a resort with Nattie, then," said Mr. Stone.
"Oh, yes, sir; she goes there to read and to sleep."
Hattie paused suddenly.
"Well," said Mr. Stone, "go on, please."
"And when she is angry, she says that she always goes and tries to tear the shingles off."
Mr Stone laughed. "Nattie must visit the roof pretty often if she goes every time she is angry. ​I think I must go home and take a look in that direction, though I hardly expect to find her there now."
"No, I don't think she is there now," said Hattie; "for she would have been afraid to stay there all night, alone."
"Is she afraid to stay alone, then?"
"Oh, yes, in the dark, she is; for Biddy Wales has told her so many ghost stories that she is afraid that she shall see one."
"Then you think Nattie didn't stay alone last night?"
"No, I don't believe she did, sir."
"I don't see what company she could have had, as I can not trace her to the homes of any of her acquaintances in the village. But I will now return and go over the premises again, from the roof downwards. If anything new comes to light, you shall know it. I hope that you will soon get quite well, my little friend."
"Thank you, sir," said Hattie; "and I hope ​that you will soon find Nattie, and that no harm has come to her."
"How is Mrs. Nesmith?" Mrs. Hartwell now inquired.
"As comfortable as could be expected, after her bleeding spell of yesterday morning," Mr. Stone answered.
"How docs she bear Nattie's strange disappearance?"
"She is not yet aware of it; but unless the child is discovered and returned before to-morrow, we shall, of course, have to let it come to her knowledge. It would not be wise or prudent longer to conceal it. After one more search at home, the town-crier will be sent abroad. If he has no success, Mr. Nesmith will be summoned home, to conduct the matter as he sees fit. I shall not wish to assume further responsibility."
"I do not blame you," said Mrs. Hartwell, "but I really hope that Nattie will come home to-day."
​"I hope the same," said Mr. Stone. "Good morning."
"Mother," cried Hattie, earnestly, as soon as the door had closed on the retiring gentleman, "why did you not send thanks to Mrs. Nesmith for the nice jelly which Biddy brought from her yesterday. I really believe that it has helped my throat more than all the doctor's medicine?"
"I thought of it, child, but didn't know as he would wish to mention his visit to Mrs. Nesmith, just now, as it might lead her to make inquiries which he would not find quite easy to answer at present. If possible to avoid it, they do not wish to let the sick mother know of her child's absence."
"Nattie must have been pretty angry to run away and stay all night," said Hattie; "and I don't believe she will come back very soon. She is strange, and scarely a bit like any other little girl that I know."