There was no time for Norah to change her working-dress, scarcely time to wash her hands. On ordinary days there would have been no use in going to Ned Franks before school-hours were over; but this was hay-making time, and a week's holiday had been given to his pupils. Carrying her precious little scrap of paper in her hand, Norah hurried along the path to the school-house, where she found Ned Franks, with Persis carrying her baby, just starting to pay a visit to Nancy Sands, who had, on the previous day, returned from the hospital to her home.
"Why, here comes Norah!" exclaimed Ned Franks, gayly, "scudding along like a yacht in a race!" and as he spoke, his niece came up breathless alike in eagerness and the pace at which she had been going, for her walk had quickened into a run.
"I've not more than five minutes," she began, and stopped to pant, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks glowing with excitement.
"Come in, then, and take breath, and tell us what news you have to bring us. What's this?" as Norah thrust the scrap of soiled paper into his hand,—"what have we to do with Tabitha Turtle? She was certainly none of our kith or kin."
As they returned into the school-house, Norah hastily informed her uncle of her reasons for thinking that the notice might be of importance to her poor blind friend. Franks and Persis listened with interest.
"Certainly Sophy should know of this," said Ned Franks; "but she's blind, and Isaacs is scarcely likely to see the Times, and if he did, it's a thousand chances to one that he should connect his adopted daughter with the name of an aunt whom she appears never to have seen, and may never even have mentioned."
"We must write to Sophy at once!" cried Norah.
"But how can we write," asked Persis, "when we do not know her address? Ned has not heard from Isaacs for months, and then our friend mentioned that he was about to leave his lodgings, without saying where the next one would be."
Ned Franks passed his hand through his thick curly hair, as if, by so doing, he could draw out some bright idea. "I've half a mind," he said, "as it's holiday-time, to be off to London myself, see the lawyers, and find out if it's likely that there's really any money left to Sophy, and then hunt her out, if I can; though looking for any one in London is like searching for a needle in a haystack."
"Oh, if you will only go!" exclaimed Norah, eagerly, "I'll pay the expense so gladly, as soon as I get my quarter's wages!"