Marjorie wondered for a moment, and then again grew interested in her neighbour's talk. When Charity's signal drew the ladies into the hall, she was detained a second by the enveloping skirt of one of the ladies.
A colloquy was going on at the hall door. The soft night air streamed in, feeling cool and grateful to Marjorie's heated cheek. As she lingered, she caught the hurried words in a familiar voice—
"Tell Mr. Pelham, please, immediate! Mr. Bethune is gone to the police—but he is to go, and Miss Bethune, at once to Mrs. Bethune. Poor lady, she is——"
With a little cry, Marjorie was at the door.
"What is it, nurse?" she asked breathlessly. "Barbara?"
Almost with a note of triumph at the importance of her news, the woman said, "Neither Miss Barbara nor any of the young gentlemen can be found anywhere, miss. They have all clean disappeared. Oh, sir," in accents of direful import, as Mr. Pelham reached Marjorie's side, "Miss Barbara is lost!"
Down the steps, waiting for no wrap, sped Marjorie; and the twilight, now descending on the Canons' Court, closed her in. For a second, through the dimness, Mr. Pelham saw the hasty, flying figure in its soft white robe, and caught a glimpse of her face. It was a vision that burnt itself on his memory.
Mr. Warde leapt with him down the wide steps.
"We shall soon find her, never fear," he said kindly—he had only heard the end of nurse's message. "I will call my servants, and be with you directly."
[END OF CHAPTER NINE.]