“Yes,” added Dorian after a thoughtful pause, “I am just wondering how and to what extent I am fulfilling any obligation which is resting on me by reason of blessings I am enjoying.  Let’s see—­we are not rich, but we meet every call made on us by way of tithing and donations; we are not very wise, but we impart of what we have by service; we are not very strong—­I fear, mother, that’s where I lack.  Am I giving of my strength as fully as I can to help the weak.  I don’t know—­I don’t know.”

“You mean Carlia?”

“Yes; what am I doing besides thinking and praying for her?”

“What more can we do?”

“Well, I can try doing something more.”

“What, for instance!”

“Trying to find her.”

“But her father has done that.”

“Yes; but he has given up too soon.  I should continue the search.  I’ve been thinking about that lately.  I can’t stay cosily and safely at home any longer, mother, when Carlia may be in want of protection.”

“And what would you be liable to find if you found her?”

That question was not new to his own mind, although his mother had not asked it before.  Perhaps, in this case, ignorance was more bliss than knowledge.  Whatever had happened to her, would it not be best to have the pure image of her abide with him?  But he know when he thought of it further that such a conclusion was not worthy of a strong man.  He should not be afraid even of suffering if it came in the performance of duty.

That very night Dorian had a strange dream, one unusual to him because he remembered it so distinctly the day after.  He dreamed that he saw Mildred in what might well be called the heavenly land.  She seemed busy in sketching a beautiful landscape and as he approached her, she looked up to him and smiled.  Then, as she still gazed at him, her countenance changed and with concern in her voice, she asked, “Where’s Carlia?”

The scene vanished, and that was all of the dream.  In the dim consciousness of waking he seemed to hear Carlia’s voice calling to him as it did that winter night when he had left her, not heeding.  The call thrilled his very heart again: 

“Dorian, Dorian, come back—­come back!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

The second week in December Dorian went into action in search of Carlia Duke.  He acknowledged to himself that it was like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack, but inaction was no longer possible.

Carlia very likely had no large amount of money with her, so she would have to seek employment.  She could have hidden herself in the city, but Dorian reasoned that she would be fearful of being found, so would have gone to some nearby town; but which one, he had no way of knowing.  He visited a number of adjacent towns and made diligent enquiries at hotels, stores, and some private houses.  Nothing came of this first week’s search.