Off ran Fritz. He was a very good boy about his lessons, and anxious to get on well. More to please Lisa and the others than that they cared, mother and auntie went into the dining-room. They were standing looking at the pretty flowers and leaves, when suddenly Fritz put his head in at the door again.
"Lisa," he said, "where's Baby? He's not upstairs, and he's not in the garden. Linley said you told him to play there this afternoon, but he's _not_ there."
"Mine child!" she cried. "Ah, but he must be in the garden, Master Fritz! I saw him there so happy, with the cat, just--ah, how long ago was it? Have I forgotten him for so long? He must be hiding--to play, to--how do you say?" for Lisa's English was very apt to fly away when she got frightened or upset. "Ach, where can he be?" and off darted poor Lisa.
Mother and auntie and Fritz looked at each other.
"Can he be _lost_?" said Fritz, with a very frightened face.
"Oh no, no," said auntie. "Lisa is so easily startled. But still----"
"Let us all go and look for him at once," said mother. "What a good thing poor grandfather isn't back yet!"
----"he was not there: We searched the house, the grounds--in vain; We searched the green in our despair, And then we searched the house again."
It _was_ a good thing grandfather was out, for--and this was what mother was thinking of--poor grandfather, though he looked such a fine, tall, gray-haired old gentleman, was not really very strong or well. It was a great deal for him that they had all come abroad this winter, and the doctors had told mother and auntie that anything to startle or distress him might make him very ill indeed. Poor grandfather! I can't tell you what a kind, good man he was. He had stayed a great many years in India, though he would have liked dreadfully to come home, because it was "his duty" he said, and this had made him seem older than he really was, for a hot country is very wearing out to people who are not born to it. And, though he was so fond of his grandchildren, I think if he _had_ a pet among them, it was little Herr Baby. The mere idea of his tiny Raymond--Baby was named Raymond after grandfather--being lost, even for an hour or two, would have troubled him dreadfully, and thinking of this, auntie, too, repeated after mother,