Harold told him of the shawl, and cloak, and carpet-bag which he had carried with the child to the cottage.
'Yes, there is something more--her trunk,' chimed in the baggage-master, who had just entered the room, trembling and breathless.
'Her trunk! Did she come in the cars ?' Frank asked, his hands dropping helplessly at his side, and his lips growing pale, as the man replied: 'Yes; last night, on the quarter-past-six from New York; and what is curi's, she got out on the side away from the depot, and I never seen her till the cars went on, when she was lookin' at a paper, and the child cryin' at her feet.

I spoke to her, but she did not answer, and snatching up the child, she hurried off, almost on a run.

It was storming so I did not see her trunk till this mornin', when I found it on the platform.

I wish I had gone after her and made her take a sleigh.
If I had she wouldn't now have been dead, and, I swow, I feel as if I had killed her.

I wonder why under the sun she turned into the lots, unless she was goin' to Collingwood--' 'Or Tracy Park,' Frank said, involuntarily.
'Were you expecting any one ?' Mr.St.Claire asked.
Sinking into a chair, Frank replied: 'No, I was not, but Arthur, who has been worse than usual for a few days, has again a fancy that Gretchen is coming.