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RIDGET had breakfast on the table at an early hour, and Mr. Stone was abroad in the rain-washed streets before many of the village people were stirring. He looked into all the nooks and corners where a little girl might have found shelter for the night, and carefully searched such untenanted buildings as might have afforded a more permanent hiding-place. But he nowhere discovered the faintest trace of Nattie, and turned homeward with a sorrowful countenance.

As he was passing a small cottage not far from Mrs. Nesmith's residence, a lady came to the door