Mother and son sat in silence for some time.  He continued to ask questions, but she know no more than the simple facts which she had told.  He could do nothing to help, at least, not then, so he reluctantly went to bed.  He did not sleep until past midnight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dorian was not tardy to Sunday School, and, considering his mental condition, he gave a good account of himself in the class.  He heard whispered comment on Carlia’s disappearance.

After Sunday school Dorian went directly to Carlia’s home.  He found the mother tear-stained and haggard with care.  The tears flowed again freely at the sight of Dorian, and she clung to him as if she had no other means of comfort.

“Do you know where Carlia is?” she wailed.

“No, Sister Duke, I haven’t the last idea.  I haven’t seen her for some time.”

“But what shall we do, Dorian, what shall we do!  She may be dead, lying dead somewhere!”

“I hardly think that,” he tried to comfort her.  “She’ll turn up again.  Carlia’s well able to take care of herself.”

The father came in.  He told what had been done to try to find the missing girl.  Not a word had they heard, not a clue or a trace had been discovered.  The father tried hard to control his emotions as he talked, but he could not keep the tears from slowly creeping down his face.

“And I suppose I’m greatly to blame” he said.  “I have been told as much by some, who I suppose, are wiser than I am.  The poor girl has been confined too much to the work here.”

“Work doesn’t hurt anybody,” commented Dorian.

“No; but all work and no play, I was plainly reminded just the other day, doesn’t always make Jack a dull boy:  sometimes, it makes dissatisfaction and rebellion—­and it seems it has done that here.  Carlia, I’ll admit had very little company, saw very little of society.  I realize that now when it may be too late.”

“Oh, I hope not,” said Dorian.

“Carlia, naturally, was full of life.  She wanted to go and see and learn.  All these desires in her were suppressed so long that this is the way it has broken loose.  Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Dorian let the father give vent to his feelings in his talk.  He could reply very little, for truth to say, he realized that the father was stating Carlia’s case quite accurately.  He recalled the girl when he and she had walked back and forth to and from the high school how she had rapidly developed her sunny nature in the warm, somewhat care-free environment of the school life, and how lately with the continual drudgery of her work, she had changed to a pessimism unnatural to one of her years.  Yes, one continual round of work at the farm house is apt either to crush to dullness or to arouse to rebellion.  Carlia was of the kind not easily crushed....  But what could they now do?  What could he do?  For, it came to him with great force that he himself was not altogether free from blame in this matter.  He could have done more, vastly more for Carlia Duke.