[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
It appeared to Adrian, Lord Chandon, on the morning following, that there was some unusual confusion in the house. Lady Dartelle was late in coming down to breakfast. When breakfast was over, she asked to speak with Lord Chandon alone, and he followed her to the library.
"My lord," she began, "pray tell me, do you know anything of the whereabouts of this unfortunate girl? I had perhaps better explain to you that much scandal has been caused in my household by the fact that my governess met your valet on the sands, and was seen talking to him for more than an hour. One of my daughters also saw him give Miss Holte a note. Now, as we could not imagine her capable of any correspondence with a servant it was only natural to suppose that he was acting for his master. I sent for Miss Holte and spoke to her, and she evinced the utmost confusion, and terrible agitation. She did not deny that she was acquainted with you. I told her I should consider it my duty to speak to you; this morning we find she must have left the house last night. Had I not reason to seek an explanation, Lord Chandon?"
"You had, indeed," he replied, "but I can throw no light on the mystery. Here is Gustave; perhaps he can enlighten us."
"Gustave," asked Lord Chandon, "for whom have you been carrying notes to Lady Dartelle's governess?"
"For no one, my lord. I took her one note, but it was written by myself."
"Gustave," said Lord Chandon, sternly, "I command you to tell all you know of the lady."
"I promised not to betray her, my lord," and as he spoke he looked wistfully at his master. Adrian thought that he saw tears in his eyes.
"Gustave," he said, "you have always been faithful to me. Tell me, who is this lady?"
"Oh, my lord!" cried the man, in a strange voice, "can you not guess?" Lord Chandon was puzzled, and then his face changed, a ghastly pallor came over it.