"Forgotten it!" said Mrs. Mildmay, deeply interested.
"Yes, that he had left it at home, at Mildmay Park. I asked him to write for it; but he laughingly assured me that no one could find it."
"Did he not remember where he had put it?" asked Mrs. Mildmay. "For I do hope we shall find it."
"No, he had not forgotten where he had put it, but he assured me that he had placed it where no hand but his could find it."
"And where was that?" asked Mrs. Mildmay.
"In the secret drawer of his writing bureau," replied the captain, in a low voice.
There was a long pause of deep silence.
"He had placed it there," continued the captain, sinking back and looking at Violet with half-closed eyes, "he had placed it there on the day of his arrival in England, and was so taken up with one thing and the other that he had forgotten it. He promised me that he would, on his next visit to England, have the portrait of Violet painted, and bring the locket out to me. But man proposes and Providence disposes. Heaven willed it that he should never see England again."
Violet's hands clasped, and her face grew deadly white.
Oh! how she longed for that miniature.