"Here she is now; now, ole 'oman! get de gruel ready!" exclaimed Jovial, as the snow-covered form rushed in. "No, it aint, nyther! Miss Hannah! My goodness, gracious me alibe, is all de worl' gone ravin', starin', 'stracted mad to-night? What de debil fotch you out in de storm at midnight?" he asked, as Hannah Worth threw off her shawl and stood in their midst.
"Oh, Jovial! I am looking for poor Nora! Have you seen anything of her?" asked Hannah anxiously.
"She was here a-sittin' by dat fire, not half an hour ago. And I lef her to go and fetch my ole 'oman to get somefin hot, and when I come back, jes' dis wery minute, she's gone!"
"Where, where did she go?" asked Hannah, clasping hear hands in the agony of her anxiety.
"Out o' doors, I see by her little foot-prints a-leading away from de door; dough I 'spects dey's filled up by dis time. I was jes' agwine out to look for her."
"Oh, bless you, Jovial!"
"Which way do you think she went, Miss Hannah?"
"Home again, I suppose, poor child."
"It's a wonder you hadn't met her."
"The night is so dark, and then you know there is more than one path leading from Brudenell down into the valley. And if she went that way she took a different path from the one I came by."