“What?”

“You ain’t heered abaout it?”

“Not a word.”

“Justin Bellwood died the second day out from New York.”

Frank gasped for breath, caught hold of the back of his chair, and stood staring at the Vermonter.

“Justin—Bellwood—dead?”

He spoke the words slowly, as if he did not quite realize what they meant.

“Yaw,” said Hans, “he vos a gone case.”

“Then—then Elsie is left all alone in the world. Poor little Elsie! I supposed she was far away on the ocean. What was she doing in Pittsburg?”

“She was living there with some of her folks or some of her friends, I dunno which. Didn’t git much chaince to talk with her.”

“But you found out her address—where she was living?”

“No.”

“Too bad! I must know where she is—I must communicate with her as soon as possible. This is terrible news!”

Merry sat down weakly, and his manner showed how he was affected.

Little Jack whispered something to Nellie, and then slipped out of the room.

A sudden gloom had come over the merry gathering. Hans and Ephraim looked at each other dolefully. Little Nell got up and came round to Frank, putting an arm about his neck.

“Dear Frank,” she whispered, “you know Heaven orders everything for the best. You must have perfect trust.”

He put his arm about her slender waist, drew her to him and kissed her.

“Yes, dear little comforter,” he said, in his low, musical voice, “I am sure Heaven orders everything for the best, for many a time I have seen apparent misfortune prove a blessing in disguise. For 

 Prev. P 17/152 next