“I don’t understand it,” murmured she, drawing her hand across her eyes.  “I don’t understand it.  But,” she went on with even an increase in her old tone of heart-felt conviction, “no matter whether we understand it or not, the case is serious; I tell you so, and she must be found.”

I resolved to know the nature of that must, used as few women in her position would use it even under circumstances to all appearance more aggravated than these.

“Why, must?” said I.  “If the girl went of her own accord as some things seem to show, why should you, no relative as you acknowledge, take the matter so to heart as to insist she shall be followed and brought back?”

She turned away, uneasily taking up and putting down some little matters on the table before her.  “Is it not enough that I promise to pay for all expenses which a search will occasion, without my being forced to declare just why I should be willing to do so?  Am I bound to tell you I love the girl? that I believe she has been taken away by foul means, and that to her great suffering and distress? that being fond of her and believing this, I am conscientious enough to put every means I possess at the command of those who will recover her?”

I was not satisfied with this but on that very account felt my enthusiasm revive.

“But Mr. Blake?  Surely he is the one to take this interest if anybody.”

“I have before said,” returned she, paling however as she spoke, “that Mr. Blake takes very little interest in his servants.”

I cast another glance about the room.  “How long have you been in this house?” asked I.

“I was in the service of Mr. Blake’s father and he died a year ago.”

“Since when you have remained with Mr. Blake himself?”

“Yes sir.”

“And this Emily, when did she come here?”

“Oh it must be eleven months or so ago.”

“An Irish girl?”

“O no, American.  She is not a common person, sir.”

“What do you mean by that?  That she was educated, lady-like, pretty, or what?”

“I don’t know what to say.  She was educated, yes, but not as you would call a lady educated.  Yet she knew a great many things the rest of us did’nt.  She liked to read, you see, and—­O sir, ask the girls about her, I never know what to say when I am questioned.”

I scanned the gray-haired woman still more intently than I had yet done.  Was she the weak common-place creature she seemed, or had she really some cause other than appeared for these her numerous breaks and hesitations.

“Where did you get this girl?” I inquired.  “Where did she live before coming here?”

“I cannot say, I never asked her to talk about herself.  She came to me for work and I liked her and took her without recommendation.”

“And she has served you well?”

“Excellently.”

“Been out much?  Had any visitors?”