They had a dull meal, being more anxious about Juliet than they cared to confess to each other. They thought she might have gone up the towing-path, or down the towing-path, or by the road towards the village, or by the fields towards the station. And at every sound from outside someone went to the door peering out with the hope of seeing the child. But an hour passed, and no Juliet appeared. Then her aunt became seriously anxious, dreading lest some terrible thing should have happened.
"If she had fallen into the lock—" said Mrs. Rowles.
"We should have heard her scream," said Mr. Rowles.
"If she had been kidnapped by gipsies," said Emily; "but then—"
"There are no gipsies about," said Philip.
Mrs. Rowles now began to think that Juliet must have set off to go home. "We have not been kind enough to her, poor child, and she can't bear it any longer."
"Don't talk nonsense," was Rowles's reply, as he obeyed a call to the lock. "We've been too kind; and if Thomas Mitchell had taken to any sensible business that did not keep him up all night, thereby breaking down his health, he would be able to support his family, and there would be no need for us to bother ourselves with such a cross-grained girl as that. Now, Phil, off to your digging again. Yes, gents, I know; how they do keep calling out for one, to be sure!"
Philip went out to the kitchen-garden. Within a few minutes his voice was heard, loudly raised.
"Here! Father! Mother! Emily! Come quick! Just look here!"
All three responded to his call