Her foot was on the step, and her hand next to Mr.Conway's heart, when she remembered that her favourite china monster and her French dog were left behind.

She insisted on returning--re-entered the house, and was coming down stairs with one under each arm, when she was met by my father and two servants.

My father's valet had discovered the flight (I forget how), and awakened his master.
When my father was convinced of his loss, he called for his dressing-gown--searched the garret and the kitchen--looked in the maid's drawers and the cellaret--and finally declared he was distracted.

I have heard that the servants were quite melted by his grief, and I do not doubt it in the least, for he was always celebrated for his skill in private theatricals.

He was just retiring to vent his grief in his dressing-room, when he met my mother.