“Be quiet, be silent; perhaps she has gone on some visit and will return. Meanwhile, leave inquiry to me.”
CHAPTER LV.
It seemed incredible that Lilian could wander far without being observed. I soon ascertained that she had not gone away by the railway—by any public conveyance—had hired no carriage; she must therefore be still in the town, or have left it on foot. The greater part of the day was consumed in unsuccessful inquiries, and faint hopes that she would return; meanwhile the news of her disappearance had spread: how could such news fail to do so?
An acquaintance of mine met me under the archway of Monks’ Gate. He wrung my hand and looked at me with great compassion.
“I fear,” said he, “that we were all deceived in that young Margrave. He seemed so well conducted, in spite of his lively manners. But—”
“But what?”
“Mrs. Ashleigh was, perhaps, imprudent to admit him into her house so familiarly. He was certainly very handsome. Young ladies will be romantic.”
“How dare you, sir!” I cried, choked with rage. “And without any colouring to so calumnious a suggestion! Margrave has not been in the town for many days. No one knows even where he is.”
“Oh, yes, it is known where he is. He wrote to order the effects which he had left here to be sent to Penrith.”