'Your Daddy-Tom, as you call him, is like the Good Shepherd in the parable,' said Lucy. 'Do you remember?'
'Yes,' said Aglaia, in a low voice, her little face becoming strangely set. 'He left all the others.'
'And he went after the one that was lost,' filled in Lucy with a sigh. 'I always thought it was uninteresting to be one of the ninety-and-nine. I am sure of it now.'
'I don't understand,' said Aglaia wearily.
'Of course you don't, and I am a goose—an ungrateful goose, too,' said Lucy, her eyes filling with tears. 'If he only brings back Grace——'
'Is that her name?' said Aglaia.
'Yes; isn't it pretty? And it's just like herself. Dearest Grace! We should never be dull or miserable if she were here.'
'Tell me what she is like,' said Aglaia.
'What Grace is like? Ah! that's not so easy,' said Lucy enthusiastically. 'She is perfectly lovely to begin with, tall and very slender—oh! my darling'—breaking into tears and sobs—'if you are alive, you must be more than slender now. All these days and nights! I can't bear to think of it. She was so gentle, too. I never heard her complain once. And her temper was that of an angel. Everyone—even the servants—adored her. It was through Tikaram's love for her that we got away at all. As for the man who brought us here, he simply worshipped her. Don't you hope she may come back safely, Aglaia?'
'Yes,' answered the child, briefly and sadly.