"What did you say, Mr. Grigsby? Is my little scholar lost? She isn't here. She hasn't been here all day—no, not for a week and more. Oh, the poor little dear! I hope nothing has happened to her. Won't you all go right off and look for her?"
She wrung her tiny white hands, and turned, first to her father, then to her grown brother, and lastly to Mr. Tayloe, who was nearest to her. "Can't I go too?" she pleaded, and her eyes had real tears of real distress in them. A little more and she would be crying outright.
Three or four people began to speak all at once, but Mr. Tayloe's voice arose above the rest.
"Isn't that the child we saw at the school-house to-day, Major? We left her there at half past three, Mr. Grigsby. She must have been caught there by the rain."
In some way which nobody could have explained his cool, matter-of-fact manner was like a wet blanket upon the excitement caused by the news of the child's disappearance. Even Mr. Grigsby felt for an instant that much ado had been made over a very little matter. Miss Emily tittered nervously.
"How very clever in you to recollect it, Mr. Tayloe!" gazing gratefully at him. "Please, papa, order ever so many of the men to go right straight after her with lights and blankets and hot coffee and things, and bring her right here. I can find some dry clothes for her, and she can sleep in my room, and—"
"That will do, Emily," said her father, quietly. "Joe"—to the colored footman who had been summoned by the knocker—"tell Jack and Emmanuel to get lightwood knots, and Cæsar to have my gig ready at once. Mr. Grigsby, I will go with you. As Mr. Tayloe suggests, we shall probably find the child at the school-house."
Mr. Grigsby's eyes and ears were quick. He was near enough to Miss Emily to overhear her say in an undertone to Mr. Tayloe:
"Won't you go, too, please? It will be a real favor to me."
The overseer faced her abruptly. "Excuse me, Miss Emily, but I hope you won't persuade Mr. Tayloe to go out this wet night. There is no need whatever for him to do it. Indeed, Major Duncombe, if you will kindly let one of the hands go along with a lightwood torch, it is all I could ask. I am very sorry to cause such a disturbance."