Nothing could be done but to pursue the mother
to a village about five miles off, where she was traced out with some difficulty, and persuaded to refer to her son George’s letter, where he mentioned the safe arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Sam, but without a word about their bringing a child with them. This omission seemed to dash all former hopes, so as to show Frank how strong they had been, and besides, there had been more than time for Herbert to have written after reaching Toronto.
However, the one step of knowing George Jones’s address had been gained, and with no more than this, they had to return, intending to see whether Ida had any notion as to what was to be done.
It was evening when Lord Northmoor came in. Mrs. Morton was alone, and as she looked up, was answered by his air of disappointment as he shook his head.
‘Oh, it is so dreadful,’ she exclaimed, ‘it is all over the place! We met Mr. Brady and his sisters, and they cut Ida dead. She is quite broken-hearted, indeed, she is.’
‘Then she has told you all?’
‘She could not help it. Mrs. Rollstone came to ask me if it was true—as a friend, she said, I should say it was more like an enemy, and Mrs. Hall came too, wanting to see Ida, but I saw her instead. The wicked woman to have given in! And they have gone and told every one, and the police will be after my poor child.’
‘No, they would not interfere unless I prosecuted, and that I certainly should not do unless it proved the only means of tracing my child. I came home intending to ask Ida if she gave any directions
about him. It seems certain that he was not brought to Toronto.’
‘Indeed! She made sure that he would be there!’ exclaimed Mrs. Morton, much dismayed. ‘Let me go and see. She is so much upset altogether that she declares that she cannot see you this evening.’