h by himself," said Mrs Hadwin, suddenly remembering that Mr
Wentworth's character must not be discussed in the presence of even
her favourite maid.

"Presently," said the unhappy Curate, with mingled impatience and
resignation; and, after a hasty knock at the door, he went into
Wodehouse's room, which was opposite, so full of a furious anxiety to
question him that he had burst into speech before he perceived that
the room was empty. "Answer me this instant," he had cried, "where is
Rosa Elsworthy?" and then he paused, utterly taken aback. It had not
occurred to him that the culprit would be gone. He had parted with him
late on the previous night, leaving him, according to appearances, in
a state of sulky half-penitence; and now the first impulse of his
consternation was to look in all the corners for the fugitive. The
room had evidently been occupied that night; part of the Curate's own
wardrobe, which he had bestowed upon his guest, lay about on the
chairs, and on a little table were his tools and the bits of wood with
which he did his carving. The window was open, letting in the fresh
air, and altogether the apartment looked so exactly like what it might
have done had the occupant gone out for a virtuous morning walk, that
Mr Wentworth stopped short in blank amazement. It was a relief to him
to hear the curious Sarah still rustling in the passage outside. He
came out upon her so hastily that Sarah was startled. Perhaps she had
been so far excited out of her usual propriety as to think of the
keyhole as a medium of information.

"Where is Wode--Mr Smith?" cried the Curate; "he is not in his
room--he does not generally get up so early. Where is he? Did he go
out last night?"

"Not as I knows of, sir," said Sarah, who grew a little pale, and gave
a second glance at the open door. "Isn't the gentleman in his room? He
do take a walk in the morning, now and again," and Sarah cast an
alarmed look behind to see if her mistress was still within hearing;
but Mrs Hadwin, intent on questioning Mr Wentworth himself, had
fortunately retired to put on her cap, and closed her door.

"Where is he?" said the Curate, firmly.

"Oh, please sir, I don't know," said Sarah, who was very near crying.
"He's gone out for a walk, that's all. Oh, Mr Wentworth, don't look at
me so dreadfully, and I'll tell you hall," cried the frightened girl,
"_hall_--as true as if I was on my oath. He 'as a taking way with
him," said poor Sarah, to whom t