His tone was so menacing, though concealed by an unctious personality, that Virginia shrank from him, yet with the low, rebellious exclamation: “Scoundrel!”
Nevertheless, she timidly deemed it discreet to arrange a meeting with John alone.
Mr. Harris silently grasped Mr. Thorpe by the hand. They had been close friends, socially and in business affairs for many years, and the hopeless, haggard, careless appearance of his long time friend touched Mr. Harris deeply.
“Poor fellow,” he said, sympathetically. “You look all in.”
“Sleepless nights and wearisome days have doubtless produced results,” languidly replied Mr. Thorpe. “Mr. Harris, I have come to beg your hospitality for an hour’s rest.”
“Welcome to ‘Rosemont,’ thrice welcome, my dear friend. I shall have a quiet room prepared at once. Make yourself comfortable for a few moments until I return,” and the energetic Mr. Harris immediately set out on his mission.
“Dear me!” commented Mrs. Harris, “If we could but unravel the mystery of Dorothy’s disappearance, what a relief it would be. Do you think it possible the child was abducted, Mr. Thorpe?”
“Would to God I could believe it true,” he gravely replied.
“I am loath to believe that the mother was aware of it,” interposed Rutley, in his soft, lazy, drawling voice, “but”——
Surprised, Mrs. Harris promptly interrupted him with: “Dear me, have you heard that Constance had intrigued for her child’s disappearance?”