The coachman hurried to the house.
"If ye please, 'm, the Jenks boy says he saw them out in the little garden that joins the studio at about six. It's about half past six, or so, now, 'm, an' ye've just reached home. I can't make out how ye missed them, but I think I'll go over ter Mr. Kirtland's house, and if he isn't out ter some reception, like he often is, I'll ask the loan of his key, and with the gardener, I'll hunt there first. I believe they're there."
Aunt Lois, now really wild with anxiety, could only say: "Go, at once.
Go somewhere, do something, to find them. See! It is getting dusky.
Wherever they are, they are frightened, I know, and surely I am almost
sick with fear for their safety."
Mr. Kirtland was at home, and while he could not believe the children were in his studio, he felt that no place should be neglected in the effort to find them, and he insisted upon joining the searching party.
Meanwhile, in the studio the dusky shadows had grown deeper. The two terrified little girls had begun to wonder if anyone would ever come for them.
They still clung to each other, and for some time not a sound had broken the stillness. Naught save the ticking of the clock, and that did not startle them, but, rather, by its monotonous tune, seemed like a friend that sought to cheer them.
Not even a team passed, and no footstep upon the sidewalk told of a pedestrian who walked by the building.
"If you heard someone walk past this place would you wish he'd stop, or would you wish he wouldn't?" whispered Rose.
"I'd hate to hear him go right by without stopping, because I'd know he wasn't coming to take us home, but if he stopped I'd be scared!" whispered Polly.
"Hark!"