‘Gone!’
‘It was inexcusable in me, sir,’ said Miss Fennimore, resting a hand on the table to support herself. ‘I thought it needlessly galling to let her feel herself watched; and at her request, let her remain in the waiting-room while her sister was in the dentist’s hands. When, after an hour, Maria was released, she was gone.’
‘Alone?’ cried Phœbe.
‘Alone, I hope. I went to the station; the train had been ten minutes gone; but a young lady, alone, in mourning, and with no luggage but a little bag, had got in there for London. Happily, they did not know her; and it was the parliamentary train, which is five hours on the road. I telegraphed at once to your brother to meet her at the terminus.’
‘I have no hope,’ said Mervyn, doggedly, seating himself on the table, his feet dangling. ‘He will be in the lowest gutter of Whittingtonia, where no one can find him. The fellow will meet that miserable child, go off to Ostend this very night, marry her before to-morrow morning. There’s an end of it!’
‘Where does Mr. Hastings lodge, sir?’
‘Nowhere that I know of. There will be no end of time lost in tracing him! No train before 8.30! I’ll go in at once, and have a special.’
‘They cannot put on one before nine, because of the excursion trains for the cattle-show. I should not have been in time had I driven to catch the express at W.,’ said Miss Fennimore, in her clear voice of desperation. ‘The 8.30 reaches town at 11.23. Will you give me the addresses where I may inquire, sir?’
‘You! I am going myself. You would be of no use,’ said Mervyn, in a stunned, mechanical way; and looking at his watch, he went to give orders.
‘He should not go, Phœbe. In his state the mere journey is a fearful risk.’