"Elizabeth!" he called; but there was no answer.
He hurried forward among the trees, but there was no object visible, no response to the summons he repeated several times.
It might be some guest who had stolen out there for a few minutes' quiet; yet that was not probable. Besides, the movements of the slender form appeared familiar to him. In height and shape Elsie and Elizabeth resembled each other; it was possibly one of them, but which?
Elsie it could not be, she had a nervous dread of darkness and could not be persuaded to stir off the piazza after nightfall. It must have been Elizabeth, then; but what was she doing there!
He started towards the house with some vague thought in his mind, to which he could have given no expression.
His wife was not in any of the rooms through which he passed, and he hurried into the ball-room. The music had just struck up anew; he saw Elsie whirling through a waltz; but Elizabeth was nowhere visible.
He drew near enough to Elsie to whisper—
"Where is Bessie?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I have been dancing all the while, and have not seen her for some time."
He turned away; but, just then, Mrs. Harrington captured him, and it was several moments before he could escape from her tiresome loquacity.