Year: 1879

disappeared. He had not heard the noise ot
the carriage driving of, and though he had
looked up and down the street, had seen moth
ing of it." ,~s,~... ...


"Of course, sir, as Miss Rathbone seemed
so ready and so unsuspecting-like, didn't
dream of foul play" he said in selfextenua
ton, to Mr. Crofton though I'd have kept
her in sight when she went down to the gate
if hadn't been sent on an errand."


The man was really not to blame, under the
circumstances Besides, he seemed as much
troubled almost as were the family them.
selves, and offered to do all in his power to
assist in the search which ensued. Mr. Crof
ton went at once to report the case at the po-
lice office, and was assured that detectives
should be put instantlyion the track of the
young lady and her abductors. He returned
home partly consoled by the assurances he
received from the officials, that they would
surely succeed in their quest; but the whole
household continued in state Of anxiety and
uneasiness impossible to describe, and tired
as they were, none Of them closed their eyes
in sleep for many hours after. .e:


The case was reported in the papers, and
soon became subject Of general wonderment
and speculation; but, singular to say, all the
efforts of the detectives to ferret it out proved
of no avail. Mildred's disappearance seemed
as total as it had been sudden and mysterious
and when days and weeks had been consumed
in fruitless search, and still not the faintest
light had been thrown upon The mystery, her
friends began to despair of her recovery, and
to mourn her as forever lost to them. Mrs.
Crofton's nerves were so shattered by the at
Fiction, that she fell into state of mental
prostration, more trying to those around her
than bodily illness. She had truly loved
Mildred as daughter, and the catastrophe
of losing her, painful enough as it would have
been in any case, was, of course, rendered
doubly severe by the strange circumstances
attendant upon the loss.


Mr.. Crofton, at length, became convinced
that his ward, supposing her to be still alive,
(though on this point he felt more than doubt
ful) had been taken out of the country, or at
least, to some far distant point, perhaps New
York, or one of the other large eastern cities.
At all events, it seemed to him hopeless to
look for her recovery in San Francisco, and
as he had finished the business which had
brought him there, he determined to take bis
family home, believing such s. course would
prove most beneficial to his wife's health.
The strictest search had been instituted in ev.
cry part of the United States, and handsome
rewards offered for any authentic information
concerning the lost girl. And as her guar
dian's farther presence in America could, in
no way, be instrumental to the success of the
search, he set out for his native country with
his wife and daughters, just a year from the
time that he had hidden it farewell, wishing
most heartily that his business had never
called him abroad. Sad, indeed, it was to be
obliged to return to their peaceful country
home, without the loVedand valued presence
that had so cheered and adorned it Nobody
had known, until Mildred was gone, how i'm
portant she had been to them all, or how sad
ly she would be missed. In order to remove
the cloud which had settled upon his wifes
spirit, Mr.. Crofton finding, after some months,
that nothing appeared to relieve her melan-
choly, determined upon another move, judg.
ing that new scenes and the exertion of travel
would be the best remedies he could employ
for her. So they set off again, this time for
a continental tour, which was to last indeh'
nitely. At any other time, the two girls
would have been perfectly enchanted with the
prospect of roaming over Europe, and partic'
ularly with the idea of lingering in Paris and
partaking of the gayeties there. But under
the circumstances which impelled the move,
it seemed to lose all its charm. Naturally,
neither Mr.. nor Mrs. Crofton desired that two
young creatures, like Alice and Ethel, should
be permanently saddened by sorrow, no
matter how deep, which they themselves found
it impossible to shake off, and for this reason
they were willing to have them reap all the
enjoyment offered them by the places and
scenes through which they passed. But with
out Mildred, even the pleasure of novelty
seemed fiat. The gay, unthinking hearts had
been touched too painfully to easily recover,
their wonted lightness and buoyancy. With
every fresh experience came the wish, some
times expressed, but oftenest secretly felt, "Oh
if we but had Mildred to share it with US !"


But months passed by, and still no tidings
came. And by and by the hope, lingering
and faint, which had refused to be entirely
banished from their hearts died out, and the
conviction that Mildred was irrevocably lost
settled finally upon them.


And what had become of Frank Coventry
all this time? He too had heard the strange
story of Mildred's disappearance, and bitter
ly, bitterly had he felt the blow, and mourned
over the thought that he had let fate separate
her from him thus, without ever having
spoken to her of his love; but not like her
guardians family did he yield to the belief
that she was dead. Unaccountable as it ap-
peared that so complete a mystery surround
ed her fate, as to render the most strenuous
and persistent efforts at discovery of no avail,
still he did not, could not, abandon hope.
It was impossible to conceal from his family
the trouble which oppressed him, and now for
the first time his secret, hitherto shared by
Lena alone became known first to his moth
er, then his sisters, finally to his father him.
self, to whom it proved no welcome news.