There was no response to the newspaper advertisements; and the police confessed themselves entirely at fault.
Exhausted by sleepless anxiety, broken in spirit by this distressing affliction, and almost despairing in regard to the absent one, Mr.and Mrs.Claire were seated alone, about an hour after dark on the evening of the third day, when the noise of rumbling wheels ceased before their door.

Each bent an ear, involuntarily, to listen, and each started with an exclamation, as the bell rang with a sudden jerk.
Almost simultaneously, the noise of wheels was again heard, and a carriage rolled rapidly away.

Two or three quick bounds brought Claire to the door, which he threw open.
"Fanny!" he instantly exclaimed; and in the next moment the child was in his arms, clinging to him, and weeping for joy at her return.
With a wonderful calmness, Mrs.Claire received Fanny from her husband, murmuring as she did so, in a subdued, yet deeply gratified voice-- "O, God! I thank thee!" But this calmness in a little while gave way, and her overstrained, but now joyful feelings, poured themselves forth in tears.
Poor child! She too had suffered during these three never-to-be-forgotten days, and the marks of that suffering were sadly visible in her pale, grief-touched countenance.
To the earnest inquiries of her foster-parents, Fanny could give no very satisfactory answer.

She had no sooner left the square with the lady mentioned by little Edith, than she was hurried into a carriage, and driven off to the cars, where a man met them.

This man, she said, spoke kindly to her, showed her his watch, and told her if she would be a good girl and not cry, he would take her home again.