dilapidated heads and faces
of the female sex. Put two and two together; and perhaps you'll agree
with me, in this case, that they make four."

"Yes, yes; two and two make four," repeated his father, impatiently.
"But I want to know something else. Did she hear from him again? Did he
send for her after he had gone away to foreign parts?"

"The captain? Why, what on earth can you be thinking of? Hadn't he spent
every farthing of her money? and wasn't he loose on the Continent out of
her reach? She waited to hear from him. I dare say, for she persisted in
believing in him. But I'll lay you any wager you like, she never saw the
sight of his handwriting again. We did our best at the office to open
her eyes; we told her plainly that he had a first wife living, and that
she hadn't the shadow of a claim on him. She wouldn't believe us, though
we met her with the evidence. Obstinate, devilish obstinate. I dare say
she waited for months together before she gave up the last hope of ever
seeing him again."

Mr. Bashwood looked aside quickly out of the cab window. "Where could
she turn for refuge next?" he said, not to his son, but to himself.
"What, in Heaven's name, could she do?"

"Judging by my experience of women," remarked Bashwood the younger,
overhearing him, "I should say she probably tried to drown herself. But
that's only guess-work again: it's all guess-work at this part of her
story. You catch me at the end of my evidence, dad, when you come to
Miss Gwilt's proceedings in the spring and summer of the present year.
She might, or she might not, have been desperate enough to attempt
suicide; and she might, or she might not, have been at the bottom of
those inquiries that I made for Mrs. Oldershaw. I dare say you'll see
her this morning; and perhaps, if you use your influence, you may be
able to make her finish her own story herself."

Mr. Bashwood, still looking out of the cab window, suddenly laid his
hand on his son's arm.

"Hush! hush!" he exclaimed, in violent agitation. "We have got there at
last. Oh, Jemmy, feel how my heart beats! Here is the hotel."

"Bother your heart," said Bashwood the younger. "Wait here while I make
the inquiries."

"I'll come with you!" cried his father. "I can't wait! I tell you, I
can't wait!"

They went into the hotel together, and asked for "Mr. Armadale."

The answer, after some little hesitation and delay, was that Mr.
Armadale had gone away six days since. A second waiter