" Whereupon he
got into his buggy and drove off without another word.
But the Dale girls and Melody--bless them all for a set of
angels!--would soon put him to rights again, thought the doctor, and
he would send old Mrs. Prabbles some pills in the morning. There was
nothing whatever the matter with the old harridan. Here was the turn;
now in a moment he would see Vesta sitting in the doorway at her
knitting, or looking out of Rejoice's window; and she would call the
child whom his heart loved, and then for a happy, peaceful evening,
and all vexations forgotten!
But what was this? Instead of the trim, staid figure he looked to see,
who was this frantic woman who came running toward him from the little
house, with white hair flying on the wind, with wild looks? Her dress
was disordered; her eyes stared in anguish; her lips stammered, making
confused sounds, which at first had no meaning to the startled hearer.
But he heard--oh, he heard and understood, when the distracted woman
grasped his arm, and cried,--
"Melody is stolen! stolen! and Rejoice is dead!"
CHAPTER VII.
LOST.
Miss Rejoice was not dead; though the doctor had a moment of dreadful
fright when he saw her lying all crumpled up on the floor, her eyes
closed, her face like wrinkled wax.
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