xendale.'

Clearly he had not spent the last three months in ease of mind. His
appearance was too like that with which he had come from Oxford on the
occasion of his break-down.

'I could bear it no longer,' he continued. 'I cannot let her go away
without seeing her.'

'You will go this evening?'

'Yes, I must. You have nothing hopeful to say to me?'

Mrs. Baxendale dropped her eyes, and answered, 'Nothing.' Then she
regarded him as if in preface to some utterance of moment, but after all
kept silence.

'Has she heard of anything yet?'

'I believe not. I have not seen her since Tuesday, and then she told me
of nothing. But I don't ask her.'

'I know--you explained. I think you have done wisely. How is she?'

'Well, seemingly.'

He let his feeling get the upper hand.

'I can't leave her again without an explanation. She _must_ tell me
everything. Have I not a right to ask it of her? I can't live on like
this; I do nothing. The days pass in misery of idleness. If only in pity
she will tell me all.'

'Don't you think it possible,' Mrs. Baxendale asked, 'that she has
already done so?'

He gazed at her blankly, despairingly.

'You have come to believe that? Her words--her manner--seem to prove
that?'

'I cannot say certainly. I only mean that you should be prepared to
believe if she repeated it.'

'Yes, if she repeats it. I shall have no choice. Well, I wished to see
you first; I will go to Banbrigg at once.'

Mrs. Baxendale seemed reluctant to let him go, yet at length she did. He
was absent an hour and a half. At his return Mrs. Baxendale had friends
with her in the drawing room. Wilfrid ascertained it from the servant,
and said that he would go to the sitting-room he had formerly occupied,
and wait there till the lady was alone.

She came to him before very long, and learnt that he had not been able
to see Emily; the servant had told him that she could see no one till
the next morning.

Mrs. Baxendale sighed.

'Then you must wait.'

'Yes, I must wait.'

He passed the night at the house. Mr. Baxendale was in London,
parliamentarily occupied. At eleven next morning he went again to
Banbrigg. Again he was but a short time absent, and in his face, as he
entered the drawing-room, Mrs. Baxendale read catastrophe.

'She has gone!' he said. 'She left very early this morning. The girl has
no idea where she has gone to, but says she won't return--that she has
left for good. What does this mean?'