"It is, indeed. Oh, that we could know what had become of him!"
"We shall know. I don't think but what he's alive. Something seems to assure me that we shall some of these days look upon his face again."
"I am rejoiced to hear you say so."
"We will stir heaven and earth to find him. If he were killed, do you see, there would have been some traces of him now at hand; besides, he would have been left lying where the rascals attacked him."
Flora shuddered.
"But don't you fret yourself. You may depend that the sweet little cherub that sits up aloft has looked after him."
"I will hope so."
"And now, my dear, Master Henry will soon be home, I am thinking, and as he has quite enough disagreeables on his own mind to be able to spare a few of them, you will take the earliest opportunity, I am sure, of acquainting him with the little matter we have been talking about, and let me know what he says."
"I will—I will."
"That's right. Now, go in doors, for there's a cold air blowing here, and you are a delicate plant rather just now—go in and make yourself comfortable and easy. The worst storm must blow over at last."