"Hold up the candle, Master Reginald.

Ay, ay, that'll do, my deary.

I'll see you again." We were still at dessert with my father, when Bowles came hastily into the room with a pale face, and went up to my wife.
"Did you send for Mrs.Bundle, ma'am, since you came down to dinner ?" he asked.
"Oh, dear no," said my wife.
"Cook was going upstairs, and met Missis Bundle a little way out of her room," Bowles explained; "and Missis Bundle she says, 'Don't stop me,' says she, 'Mrs.Dacre wants me,' she says, and on she goes; and cook waits and waits in her room for her, and at last she comes down to me, and she says--" "But where _is_ Mrs.Bundle ?" cried my father.
"That's circumstantially what nobody knows, sir," said Bowles with a distracted air.
We all three rushed upstairs.

Mrs.Bundle was not to be found.

My father was frantic; my wife with tears lamented that some chance word of hers might have led the half-childish old lady to fancy that she wanted her.
But a sudden conviction had seized upon me.
"You need not trouble yourself, my darling," said I; "you are not the Mrs.Dacre Nurse Bundle went to seek." I ran to my father's dressing-room.