which quickly banished all thoughts of anything else from Dolly's mind.

"Mrs. Fairbairn writes, that Peter Pranks was at Sherway two days ago," she said, "and he had got tidings of a boy who was with a company of travelling showmen. By the description, he has very little doubt of his being our lost Harty. Good old Pranks was about then to start on their track. He had heard of them as far as an inland town, Gratemill, where they were to stay some time. We must hasten on there without delay."

Aunt Charlotte spoke hurriedly, and with anxious hopefulness trembling in her voice. Soon their few preparations were made, and they were once more on their way. Surely this time they were not to be deceived, but all their tedious journeys, and heart-sick longing, were to be ended. They would now surely find the dear missing one, Harty the wanderer.

CHAPTER XIV.

DOLLY AND THE BEAR.

JUST as if everything were against their making haste upon the journey they were so anxious to perform, there was no train at all to take them in the direction of Gratemill, from Westbay. A coach, which went only once a day, was the conveyance they were compelled to avail themselves of, for the first part of the way. This, of course, caused a considerable delay; and when they reached the end of the coach journey, they had still some distance to walk before arriving at the railway, which was to convey them to Gratemill direct.

Thus it was very late at night, on the day after leaving Westbay, when Aunt Charlotte and her little niece arrived at the town where Pranks had said the showmen were to be; and where, as they fondly hoped, their dear Harty was at length to be found.

Being so late, of course nothing was to be done, but go and take beds, and find the repose they sadly needed, at the only hotel open to receive them. Not but what the fond Aunt Charlotte, and devoted little sister, would have

gladly given up rest and refreshment for themselves, had it been possible to have gone at once about the business which brought them there, and which always filled their hearts and minds.

But no one could be visited, no inquiries made at that hour; so to bed they went. And, wearied as they were, both slept soundly; without even dreaming of what the morrow was to bring forth.

A bright, beautiful day dawned over the smoky town of Gratemill. Dolly, as she looked out from her bedroom window on the narrow streets and stacks of chimneypots, was pitying, with all her heart, the people who were compelled to live all their days in such a place. She thought of the clear, calm brightness of the scene about dear Serway; and, as she so often did now, she said with a sigh,

"Shall we ever be there again, all together! dear Harty and all !"

She spoke aloud, though to herself; and her voice awoke her aunt, who started up hastily, fearing it must be late. When she found it was still early, she proceeded to dress leisurely; and, while she did so, Dolly told her of yesterday's adventure, the poor soldier, and the handkerchief she had found.

"It is in the small blotting-book, wrapped in a piece of paper, aunt," she concluded.

"And I packed the blotting-case in the portmanteau, when we left Westbay so hurriedly," said Aunt Charlotte. "Never mind, you can show me the handkerchief some other time. It is not at all likely, my dear, you will ever meet with the poor fellow again. Still we never know.”

"But wasn't it shocking?" pursued Dolly, "that he should be taken up, and treated like a prisoner, for going to see his poor mother, who was dying?"

"It does appear so, my dear," replied her aunt. "Still there must be discipline, you know; if one man left the regiment on one pretext, and another on another pretext, there might as well be no soldiers at all."

At that moment the chambermaid came to say breakfast was ready; Aunt Charlotte had ordered it early.

When they had finished breakfast, Aunt Charlotte began her inquiries, and then she learned, to her dismay, that the showman's company had not come to Gratemill, but was located at a village, some miles off, where it would probably remain several days.

"So, Dolly my dear, we must start again at once," said Aunt Charlotte. "I could not wait here, doing nothing, and thinking that all the while our darling boy may be within a few miles of us."

"Oh no! aunty," cried her niece; "let us go, let us go." Once more they started on their journey. When was it to end? Very soon they hoped. The heart of each beat high with joyous anticipation as they set out on their long walk. There was no direct conveyance from Gratemill to the village which had been named to Aunt Charlotte. The railway would carry them to a point some miles beyond it, whence they must still have walked a considerable distance; but, by short cuts through fields, and across a common, and by some beautiful country lanes; the way which Aunt Charlotte had decided on was a short one in comparison.

Soon the grimy town was left behind; and the beautiful

sights and sounds of sweet country life gathered about them again. Now it was a field of fast-ripening corn; now an orchard, whose boughs were weighted down with the plums, pears, and apples, almost ready for gathering; then a stile to climb, and a path to traverse, threading away between hedges of wild rose and honeysuckle; a lark would go whirring up from the corn-field on the other side, warbling its sweet, grateful song, that sounded like a hymn of thanksgiving for the bright beauty of the day; and, as he soared out of sight, still warbling, a blackbird or a thrush took up its part in the chorus.

It was as if all nature was joyous and glad, because of the sunshine. Dolly's little heart caught some of the gaiety around her.

"Surely," she could not but say to herself, "surely we are to find him to-day. All is so bright, so beautiful!”

And she hurried after her aunt, whom neither the delicious sounds nor sights of the road they were pursuing had power to stop for one moment.

They were nearing the close of their journey. First came in view the spire of the pretty, unpretentious village church; this they beheld at some distance, and Dolly pointed it out to her aunt gleefully.

"That must be the place, aunty. Oh! do you think, do you really think we have found dear Harty this time?"

"I trust, I hope so, my dear," was the reply.

And they hastened on.

Now they emerged, from the hedge-rows and lanes, to the top of a hill, whence they looked down upon the clusters of cottages, and, further on, the farm-houses,