Ellen Brewster was two nights and a day at Cynthia Lennox's, and no one discovered it.

All day the searching-parties passed the house.
Once Ellen was at the window, and one of the men looked up and saw her, and since his solicitude for the lost child filled his heart with responsiveness towards all childhood, he waved his hand and nodded, and bade another man look at that handsome little kid in the window.
"Guess she's about Ellen's size," said the other.
"Shouldn't wonder if she looked something like her," said the first.
"Answers the description well enough," said the other, "same light hair." Both of the men waved their hands to Ellen as they passed on, but she shrank back afraid.

That was about ten o'clock of the morning of the day after Miss Lennox had taken her into her house.

She had waked at dawn with a full realization of the situation.

She remembered perfectly all that had happened.