despair.

"But what _are_ you doing?"

"I am blacking my red shoes," Elizabeth wailed; and so she was,
the blacking-sponge on its shaky wire dripping all over the
carpet. "My beautiful red shoes; I am blacking them; and now they
are spoiled forever."

"But why do you want to spoil them?" gasped Miss White,
struggling to take the blacking-bottle away from her. "Elizabeth,
tell me immejetly! What has happened?"

"I didn't go on the journey," said Elizabeth; "and David wouldn't
stay at home with me; he liked Blair and Nannie better 'an me. He
hurt my feelings; so pretty soon right away I got mad--mad--mad--
to think he wouldn't stay with me. I always get mad if my
feelings are hurt, and David Richie is always hurting 'em. I
despise him for making me mad! I despise him for treating me so--
_hideous_! And so I took a hate to my shoes." The ensuing
explanation sent Miss White, breathless, to tell Mrs. Richie; but
Mrs. Richie was not at home.

When David did not appear that afternoon after school, Mrs.
Richie was disturbed. By three o'clock she was uneasy; but it was
nearly five before the quiver of apprehension grew into positive
fright; then she put on her things and walked down to the
Maitland house.

"Is David here?" she demanded when Harris answered her ring;