Wood started to his feet. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person.
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