“I don't know,” said the other; “I presume he will. But where can he have gone to-day?”
“He acted very queerly,” said the girl; and then suddenly a delighted smile lit up her face. “Oh, Daddy,” she added, “do you know, I think Arthur is in love!”
“In love!” gasped Mr. Davis.
“Yes, in love!”
“Pray, with whom?”
“I'm sure I can't imagine,” said Helen gravely; “but he seemed so abstracted, and he seemed to have something to tell me. And then he ran away!”
“That is very strange indeed,” remarked the other. “I shall have to speak to him about it.”
“If he doesn't come back soon, I'll go to look for him,” said the girl; “I'm not going to let the water nixies run off with my Arthur; there are such things in that stream, because the song I was singing about it says so.” And then she chanted as merrily as ever:
“Why speak I of a murmur?
No murmur can it be;
The Nixies they are singing
'Neath the wave their melody!”
“I will tell you what,” said Mr. Davis, rising from his chair as he realized that the sermon had entirely vanished for the present. “You may go part of the way with me, and we'll stop in to see the Vails.”