"Of course, we shall find her before we say any-
thing," returned Miss Parmalee, who was sure to
rise to an emergency. Madame sank helpless be-
fore one. "You had better go and sit under that
tree (Sam, take a cushion out of the carriage for
Madame) and keep quiet; then Sam must drive
to the village and give the alarm, and the straw-
wagon had better go, too; and the rest of us will
hunt by threes, three always keeping together. Re-
member, children, three of you keep together, and,
whatever you do, be sure and do not separate. We
cannot have another lost."
It seemed very sound advice. Madame, pale and
frightened, sat on the cushion under the tree and
sniffed at her smelling-bottle, and the rest scattered
and searched the grove and surrounding underbrush
thoroughly. But it was sunset when the groups
returned to Madame under her tree, and the straw-
wagon with excited people was back, and the victoria
with Lucy's father and the rector and his wife, and
Dr. Trumbull in his buggy, and other carriages fast
arriving. Poor Miss Martha Rose had been out
calling when she heard the news, and she was walk-
ing to the scene of action. The victoria in which
her cousin was seated left her in a cloud of dust.
Cyril Rose had not noticed the mincing figure with
the card-case and the parasol.
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