He had fixed to say this during his ride to the Hall, and he blurted it out in the forced way that prepared speeches are often made.
“Unhappily she is not,” answered John Temple, in a low voice, and with downcast eyes.
“Not with you! That’s odd; then where did you leave her?”
For a moment Temple did not speak; a quiver passed over his face, and his lips trembled.
“Mr. Churchill,” he began, and then he paused.
“Well, Mr. Temple, what is this mystery about?” now asked Mr. Churchill, sharply. “I know you are married to her, so what is wrong?”
“We quarreled and she has left me,” said Temple, forcing himself to utter the words. “She left me without a line, or word—I can not tell you where she is.”
“Can not tell me where she is! Quarreled with you and left you!” repeated Mr. Churchill in the utmost astonishment. “Mr. Temple, I can not believe such an incredible story.”
“Yet it is most unhappily true, Mr. Churchill. I would give everything I possess in the world to be able to tell you more—to tell you where she is.”
Temple’s voice broke and faltered as he uttered the last words, and Mr. Churchill looked at him in absolute amazement and consternation.