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“Why, Mother,” said Annie Halliway. “Where am I?”

The Special Man from New York made a queer little sound in his throat.

“Thank God!” he said. “She’s all right now!”

It seemed pretty quick to me.

“You mean–” I said, “that her Mysteria is all cured–now?”

“Not Mysteria,” said the Special Man from New York, “Hysteria!”

“No!–Hersteria!” corrected Old Man Smith.

The Special Man from New York began to laugh.

But Annie Halliway’s Mother began to cry.

“Oh, just suppose we’d never found her?” she cried. She looked at Carol. She looked at me. She glared a little. But not so awfully much. “When you naughty children ran away with her?” she cried. “And we couldn’t find her anywhere?–And the Doctor came? And there was only an hour to spare?–And we got a horse and drove round anywhere? And–And—-“

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything!” said the Special Man from New York.

“And all your appointments waiting?” cried Annie Halliway’s Mother.

“Darn the appointments!” said the Special Man from New York. He slanted his head and looked at Old Man Smith. “We arrived,” he said, “just at the moment when the young lady was gazing so–so intently at the piece of shiny glass.” He made a funny grunt in his throat. “Let me congratulate you, Mr.–Mr. Smith!” he said. “Your treatment was most efficient!–Your hypnosis was perfect! Your—-“

“Hip nothing!” said Old Man Smith.

“Of course, in a case like this,” said the Special Man from New York, “the Power of Suggestion is always—-“

“All young folks,” said Old Man Smith, “are cases of one kind or another–and the most powerful suggestion that I can make is that somebody find ‘Harry!'”

“‘Harry?'” said Annie Halliway’s Mother. “‘Harry?‘–Why, I’ve got four letters at home for Annie in my desk now–from some im–impetuous young man who signs himself ‘Harry!’–He seems to be in an Architect’s office in Paris! ‘Robin’ is what he calls Annie!–‘Dearest Robin’—-“

“Eh?” said Annie Halliway. “What? Where?” She sat bolt upright! She scrambled to her feet! She started for the carriage!

Her Mother had to run to catch her.

The Special Man from New York followed them just as fast as he could.

Old Man Smith wheeled his chair to the gate to say “Good-bye.”

Everything seemed all mixed up.

Annie Halliway’s Mother never stopped talking a single second.

“Oh, my Pet!” she cried. “My Precious. My Treasure!”

With one foot on the carriage step the Special Man from New York turned round and looked at Old Man Smith. He smiled a funny little smile.

“Seek–and ye shall find!” he said. “That is–if you only know How and Where to seek.”

Old Man Smith began to chuckle in his beard.

“Yes, I admit that’s quite a help,” he said, “the knowing How and Where!–But before you set out seekin’ very hard for anything that’s lost it’s a pretty good idea to find out first just exactly what it is that you’re seekin’ for!–When a young lady’s lost her mind, for instance, that’s one thing!–But if it’s her heart that’s lost, why, that, of course, is quite another!”

Annie Halliway’s face wasn’t white any more. It was as red as roses. She had it in her Mother’s shoulder.

The horses began to prance. The carriage began to creak.

Annie Halliway’s Mother looked all around.

“Oh, dear–oh, dear–oh, dear, Mr.–Mr. Smith,” she said. “How shall I ever repay you?”

Old Man Smith reached out his hand across the fence. There was sort of a twinkle in his eye.

“One dollar, please,” said Old Man Smith.