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In the meantime, let it be understood that poor little Lucy Morris was a governess in the house of old Lady Fawn, when our beautiful young widow established herself in Mount Street. Lady Eustace and Lucy Morris had known each other for many years, had indeed been children together, there having been some old family friendship between the Greystocks and the Morrises.

Strange as it may seem, nothing more was heard from Jacques Valette and Jean Bevoir, and the Morrises often wondered what had become of them, and of their companion, Hector Bergerac. They questioned the hunters, both white and red, but could get no information. "They must have gone up to the Lakes after all," said James Morris. "If it is so, I am thankful for it."

The population of the city was then but thirty-five thousand, and only a few families at the head of which were the Schuylers, the Livingstons, the Van Rensselaers, and the Morrises constituted what is called "Society," which was much more ceremonious than at the present day, and more exclusive.

I will just bring my tale down to the present time, and then I will stop talking, and go lie down in my basket, for I am an old dog now, and get tired very easily. I was a year old when I went to the Morrises, and I have been with them for twelve years. I am not living in the same house with Mr. and Mrs. Morris now, but I am with my dear Miss Laura, who is Miss Laura no longer, but Mrs. Gray.

The party could not go into camp on the burn-over, so Sanderson took charge of the pack-train and led it along the river, where the waters flowed toward the broad Ohio. In the meantime, the Morrises and Sam Barringford dug over the ashes where the trading-post had stood.

He went away one day last summer, and no one ever knew what became of him. The Morrises searched everywhere for him, and offered a large reward to any one who would find him, but he never turned up again. I think that he felt he was going to die, and went into some out-of-the-way place.

"I too had never ceased being glad that the grocer had sold me to the Morrises, for I was sure that life would not have been so comfortable for me in the back part of a country store, inhaling the odors from fish barrels and molasses kegs, and with the dreary outlook afforded by shelves full of canned vegetables and cracker boxes.

I think they disliked him as much as he disliked them. Jim and I did not get the mange. Dandy was not a strong dog, and I think his irregular way of living made him take diseases readily. He would stuff himself when he was hungry, and he always wanted rich food. If he couldn't get what he wanted at the Morrises', he went out and stole, or visited the dumps at the back of the town.

The new fall of snow had covered all traces of the tragedy recently enacted at the spot, but the Morrises had brought along a pair of shovels and a broom, and soon the party was at work, clearing away the snow as Sam Barringford directed. The remains of man and horse were at last uncovered, and then began an earnest search for some clew which might lead to the identity of the unfortunate person.

She was suddenly so happy that she sprang up and did a little dance round her room, a sort of polka, that became so vehement that the pictures and the little rickety table rattled. "I'll be so grown-up at the Morrises' this afternoon that they'll think I've been calling for years," she said to herself. She had need of all her courage and optimism at luncheon, for it was a gloomy meal.