"Poor little tad, all alone in the dark,"-- the words followed her and were like sword thrusts through the mother heart of her.

Then Chip overtook her, knowing too well the hurt which the Countess had given with her blundering anxiety.

Just at the porch he caught up with her, and she clung to him, sobbing wildly.
"You don't want to mind what that old hen says," he told her brusquely.
"She's got to do just so much cackling or she'd choke, I reckon.

The Kid's all right.

Some of the boys have run across him by this time, most likely, and are bringing him in.