"What do you say?—little Dorothy has not been with you to Colla? She must have gone home, then."
"No, no, my lady," Ingleby said. "No, no; I have been waiting for her there till ten minutes ago. She is lost—lost—and oh! I wish we had never, never come to these foreign places; and the mistress so ill!"
Lady Burnside was indeed greatly distressed, but she took immediate action. She sent Willy to fetch Stefano, anxious that Mrs. Acheson should not be alarmed and she despatched him at once to the Bureau of Police, and told him to describe Dorothy, and to tell every one that she was missing.
Ingleby tried to follow them, but her legs trembled, and she sat down on a bench in the hall and burst into tears.
And this was the trouble which little Dorothy's self-will had brought upon every one; this was the end of her determination to do as she liked best, without thinking what it was right and best to do, and what other people liked best—a sad end to a day that might have been so happy; a hard lesson for her to learn!