"Never mind, Lisa," said mother; "it will do very well, I am sure. Where are the children?"
"Upstairs, Miladi, taking off their things. They have just come in," said Lisa, never thinking, somehow, as mother said the "children," but that she was talking of Celia and Denny. For, somehow, in this family—in every family there are little habits of the kind—Baby was not often spoken of among "the children." They had all got so used to the name of Herr Baby, which Lisa had called him by since he was quite a wee baby, that he was seldom spoken of by any other, and often Baby himself would talk gravely about "the children," without any one seeming to think it odd.
"Upstairs, are they?" said mother. "Well, run off, Fritz, dear, and try and get some of your lessons done before tea. Mademoiselle will help you a little, I daresay, before she goes."
Off ran Fritz. He was a very good boy about his lessons, and anxious to get on well. More to please Lisa and the others than that they cared, mother and auntie went into the dining-room. They were standing looking at the pretty flowers and leaves, when suddenly Fritz put his head in at the door again.
"Lisa," he said, "where's Baby? He's not upstairs, and he's not in the garden. Linley said you told him to play there this afternoon, but he's not there."
Lisa started, and her face grew white.
"Mine child!" she cried. "Ah, but he must be in the garden, Master Fritz! I saw him there so happy, with the cat, just—ah, how long ago was it? Have I forgotten him for so long? He must be hiding—to play, to—how do you say?" for Lisa's English was very apt to fly away when she got frightened or upset. "Ach, where can he be?" and off darted poor Lisa.
Mother and auntie and Fritz looked at each other.
"Can he be lost?" said Fritz, with a very frightened face.
"Oh no, no," said auntie. "Lisa is so easily startled. But still——"