"I can't sleep--I keep thinking of things, and worrying about the girl, till I'm quite in a fever of anxiety." He went on to say that he could not think why "she (Marty knew he was speaking of his daughter) did not answer his letter.

She must be ill--she must, certainly," he said.
"No, no.

'Tis all right, George," said his wife; and she assured him that such things always did appear so gloomy in the night-time, if people allowed their minds to run on them; that when morning came it was seen that such fears were nothing but shadows.

"Grace is as well as you or I," she declared.
But he persisted that she did not see all--that she did not see as much as he.

His daughter's not writing was only one part of his worry.