Kate doubted it, after what had passed; but she went back to her house and waited, hopefully.
At about the dinner-hour she was called to the telephone, and for a moment failed to recognize Philip's voice over the wire. It sounded unnatural.
"Is Jacqueline there?"
"Why, no. Not yet. Is she coming?"
"I—I don't know. Look here!—don't worry, but she's been gone for some hours, and she 's taken a trunk with her."
"A trunk?" cried Kate.
"Yes. Do you know anything about it? Has she spoken to you of making a visit, or anything?" He repeated his question, patiently; but Kate could not find her voice to answer. A premonition of disaster struck her dumb.
"You're not to worry," said Philip again. "Lige drove her over to the trolley-line, and he should be back soon. I'll telephone you what he has to say."
But Kate could not wait. She ran out to the stables and saddled a horse with her own hands, impatiently pushing aside the slower negroes.
Halfway to the rectory she met Philip, in the Ark. He held out to her an open letter.