“Yes,” said Julius in explanation. “She sent Betty Reynolds into Wil’sbro’ in it.”
“Get in, Rosamond,” cried Cecil, “we will drive back till we find her.”
But this was more than a good coachman could permit for his horses’ sake, and Brown declared they must be fed and rested before the ball. Cecil was ready to give up the ball, but still they could not be taken back at once; and Rosamond had by this time turned as if setting her face to walk at once to the race-ground until she found her child, when Raymond said, “Rose! would you be afraid to trust to King Coal and me? I would put him in at once and drive you till you find Julia.”
“Oh! Raymond, how good you are!”
The coachman, glad of this solution, only waited to pick up Anne, and hurried on his horses, while the bachelor friend could not help grunting a little, and observing that it was plain there was only one child in the family, and that he would take any bet ‘it’ was at home all right long before Poynsett reached the parsonage.
“Maybe so,” said Raymond, “but I would do anything rather than leave her mother in the distress you take so easily.”
“Besides, there’s every chance of her being taken to that low public-house,” said Cecil. “One that Mr. Poynsett would not allow our servants to go to during the bazaar, though it is close to the town-hall, and all the others did.”
“Let us hope that early influence may prevent contamination,” solemnly said the friend.
Cecil turned from him. “I still hope she may be at home,” she said; “it is getting very chill and foggy. Raymond, I hope you may not have to go.”
“You must lie down and get thoroughly rested,” he said, as he helped her out; and only waiting to equip himself for the evening dance, he hurried to the stables to expedite the harnessing of the powerful and fiery steed which had as yet been only experimentally driven by himself and the coachman.