“No. Unfortunately, he is gone to England. Went off, by the fast train, an hour ago.”
Ina fell back in silence, just as if she had been struck in the face.
“He is traveling with an English family, and they have gone straight home. Here are their names. I looked in the visitors' book, and talked to the servant, and all. Mr. Vizard, Miss Vizard—”
“Vizard?”
“Yes—Miss Maitland, Miss Dover. See, I wrote them all down.”
“Oh, I am unfortunate! Why was I ever born?”
“Don't say that, don't say that. It is annoying: but we shall be able to trace him now; and, besides, I see other ways of getting hold of him.”
Ina broke in upon his talk. “Take me to the nearest church,” she cried. “Man's words are vain. Ah, Jesu, let me cry to thee!”
He took her to the nearest church. She went in, and prayed for full two hours. She came out, pale and listless, and Ashmead got her home how he could. Her very body seemed all crushed and limp. Ashmead left her, sad at heart himself.
So long as she was in sight Ashmead could think only of her misery: but the moment she was out of sight, he remembered the theater. She was announced for Rosina that very night. He saw trouble of all sorts before him. He ran to the theater, in great alarm, and told the manager she had been taken very ill. He must change the bill.