Poor little Mrs.Cassidy followed, wringing her hands, and sobbing that she knew that they had been shut outside in the storm and the night.
Suddenly, when they had been all over the house for the third time, she caught up a lamp, and ran out in the dark, like some poor mad creature, calling, "Oh, Bethel! Oh, my little Ethel! Don't you hear your mother ?" By this time, the servants' quarters were aroused, and Mrs.Sherman, now really alarmed, called for Walker and Alec to bring lanterns.

The lawn was a wreck, strewn with leaves and fallen limbs and pieces of broken flower urns that had been overturned by the wind.

The searchers stumbled over them as they waded through the wet grass, looking in every nook and corner where it was possible for a child to have strayed, but their search was in vain.

Never a trace did they find of the lost twins.
"Stay in the house, girls," said Mrs.Sherman, as she caught up the trail of her wrapper, and ran out to follow the flickering lanterns and Mrs.Cassidy's frantic cries.

"It might give you your death of cold to expose yourselves so soon after the measles." As they stood in the door watching the wavering lights, Lloyd exclaimed, "The puppies are gone, too.