er
a letter Mrs. Spence had just received from Greece, a servant came into
the drawing-room to say that Mr. Elgar wished to speak with Mrs. Baske.
The ladies looked at each other; then Miriam directed that the visitor
should go up to her own sitting-room.

"This has something to do with Cecily," said Eleanor in a low voice.

"Probably."

And Miriam turned away.

As she entered her room, Reuben faced her, standing close by. He looked
miserably ill, the wreck of a man compared with what he had been at his
last visit. When the door was shut, he asked without preface, and in an
anxious tone:

"Can you tell me where Cecily is?"

Miriam laid her band on a chair, and met his gaze.

"Where she is?"

"She isn't at home. Haven't you heard of her?"

"Since when has she been away?"

Her manner of questioning seemed to Elgar to prove that her own
surprise was as great as his.

"I only went there last night," he said, "about eleven o'clock. She had
been in the house since her arrival the day before yesterday; but in
the afternoon she went out and didn't return. She left no word, and
there's nothing from her this morning. I thought it likely you had
heard something."

"I have heard many things, but not about _her_."

"Of course, I know that!" he exclaimed impatiently, averting his eyes
for a moment. "I haven't come to talk, but to ask you a simple
question. You have no idea where she is?"

Miriam moved a few steps away and seated herself. But almost at once
she arose again.

"Why didn't you go home before last night?" she asked harshly.

"I tell you, I am not going to talk of my affairs," he answered, with a
burst of passion. "If you want to drive me mad--! Can't you answer me?
Do you know anything, or guess anything, about her?"

"Yes," said Miriam, after some delay, speaking deliberately, "I can
give you some information."

"Then do so, and don't keep me in torment."

"Yesterday afternoon I happened to be passing Mr. Mallard's studio, and
I saw her enter it; she came in a cab. She stayed there an hour or two;
it grew dark whilst she was there. Then I saw them both go away
together."

Elgar stared, half incredulously.

"You saw this? Do you mean that you waited about and watched?"

"Yes."

"You had suspicions?"

"I knew what a happy home she had returned to."

Again she seated herself.

"She went there to ask about me," said Elgar, in a forced voice.

"You think so? Why to him? Wouldn't she rathe