"Yes; I cannot needlessly waste a single day. My poor mother, for aught I know, is still in sorrow and suffering."
"How glad she will be to see you, if you find her!"
"I shall find her; I shall not give up the search until I do find her, if it takes me all the rest of my lifetime. But I expect to be successful without much trouble."
We were silent then for half an hour, I judged, in which I was thinking of the great mission that was before me; and I have no doubt Kate was anticipating the scene that awaited her at the house of her uncle. The carriage still rattled along, and it was beginning to be dark, for we had been riding nearly an hour. I thought it was about time for us to reach Madison Place. We must have gone at least six miles, and I came deliberately to the conclusion that New York was a bigger city than I had ever supposed.
"Haven't you got almost to Madison Place?" I shouted to the driver, when my patience began to be sorely tried.
"It's a good piece yet," replied the driver, in the same surly tones.
"I think we must be almost up to Albany," I said to Kate, as I glanced out at the window.
"Not quite so far as that," laughed Kate.
"This don't look like a very aristocratic part of the city," I added. "The houses are all of wood, and poor ones at that."
"You must be patient, Ernest Thornton. We must soon reach my uncle's house."