Then it occurred to Dorian that Carlia, being a country bred girl and accustomed to work about farm houses, might apply to some of the adjacent farms down in the valley below the town for work.  The whole country lay under deep snow, but the roads were well broken.  Dorian walked out to a number of the farms and made enquiries.  At the third house he was met by a pleasant faced, elderly woman who listened attentively to what he said, and then invited him in.  When they were both seated, she asked him his name.  Dorian told her.

“And why are you interested in this girl?” she continued.

“Has she been here?” he asked eagerly.

“Never mind.  You answer my question.”

Dorian explained as much as he thought proper, but the woman still appeared suspicious.

“Are you her brother?”

“No.”

“Her young man?”

“Not exactly; only a dear friend.”

“Well, you look all right, but looks are deceivin’.”  The woman tried to be very severe with him, but somehow she did not succeed very well.  She looked quite motherly as she sat with her folded hands in her ample lap and a shrewd look in her face.  Dorian gained courage to say: 

“I believe you know something about the girl I am seeking.  Tell me.”

“You haven’t told me the name of the girl you are looking for.”

“Her name is Carlia Duke.”

“That isn’t what she called herself.”

“Oh, then you do know.”

“This girl was Carlia Davis.”

“Yes—­is she here!”

“No.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No, I don’t.”

Dorian’s hopes fell.  “But tell me what you know about her—­you know something.”

“It was the latter part of August when she came to us.  She had walked from town, an’ she said she was wanting a place to work.  As she was used to farm life, she preferred to work at a country home, she said.”

“Was she a dark-haired, rosy-cheeked girl?”

“Her hair was dark, but there was no roses in her cheeks.  There might have been once.  I was glad to say yes to her for I needed help bad.  Of course, it was strange, this girl comin’ from the city a’ wanting to work in the country.  It’s usually the other way.”

“Yes; I suppose so.”

“So I was a little suspicious.”

“Of what?”

“That she hadn’t come to work at all; though I’ll say that she did her best.  I tried to prevent her, but she worked right up to the last.”

“To the last?  I don’t understand?”

“Don’t you know that she was to be sick?  That she came here to be sick?”

“To be sick?” Dorian was genuinely at loss to understand.

“At first I called her a cheat, and threatened to send her away; but the poor child pleaded so to stay that I hadn’t the heart to turn her out.  She had no where to go, she was a long way from home, an’ so I let her stay, an’ we did the best for her.”