he Baronet's disjointed
explanation Lord Uplandtowers gathered that after his own and the other
guests' departure Sir John and Lady Grebe had gone to rest without seeing
any more of Barbara; it being understood by them that she had retired to
bed when she sent word to say that she could not join the dancers again.
Before then she had told her maid that she would dispense with her
services for this night; and there was evidence to show that the young
lady had never lain down at all, the bed remaining unpressed.
Circumstances seemed to prove that the deceitful girl had feigned
indisposition to get an excuse for leaving the ball-room, and that she
had left the house within ten minutes, presumably during the first dance
after supper.

'I saw her go,' said Lord Uplandtowers.

'The devil you did!' says Sir John.

'Yes.' And he mentioned the retreating carriage-lights, and how he was
assured by Lady Grebe that no guest had departed.

'Surely that was it!' said the father. 'But she's not gone alone, d'ye
know!'

'Ah--who is the young man?'

'I can on'y guess. My worst fear is my most likely guess. I'll say no
more. I thought--yet I would not believe--it possible that you was the
sinner. Would that you had been! But 'tis t'other, 'tis t'other, by G---!
I must e'en up, and after 'em!'

'Whom do you suspect?'

Sir John would not give a name, and, stultified rather than agitated,
Lord Uplandtowers accompanied him back to Chene. He again asked upon
whom were the Baronet's suspicions directed; and the impulsive Sir John
was no match for the insistence of Uplandtowers.

He said at length, 'I fear 'tis Edmond Willowes.'

'Who's he?'

'A young fellow of Shottsford-Forum--a widow-woman's son,' the other told
him, and explained that Willowes's father, or grandfather, was the last
of the old glass-painters in that place, where (as you may know) the art
lingered on when it had died out in every other part of England.

'By G--- that's bad--mighty bad!' said Lord Uplandtowers, throwing
himself back in the chaise in frigid despair.

They despatched emissaries in all directions; one by the Melchester Road,
another by Shottsford-Forum, another coastwards.

But the lovers had a ten-hours' start; and it was apparent that sound
judgment had been exercised in choosing as their time of flight the
particular night when the movements of a strange carriage would not be
noticed, either in the park or on the neighbouring highway,