"My lady, I haven't seen her grace. If you please, perhaps she is in her chamber," replied the maid.
Lady Belgrade bustled into the bed-room, looking all around for the bride, then into the boudoir, calling on her name.
"Salome! Salome, my dear! Where are you?" No answer; all in the luxurious rooms still and silent as the grave.
"This is very strange! She may be in the garden," said her ladyship, passing quickly into the bath-room, and descending the stairs that led directly into a small flower-garden enclosed by high walls.
The garden was now dead and sear in the late October frost. No sign of the missing girl was there.
"This is very strange! Can she have gone down into the drawing-room, after all? I will see. There is no possibility of catching the tidal train now. It is already three o'clock; the train leaves London Bridge Station at three thirty, and it is a good hour's ride from Kensington!" said Lady Belgrade, speaking more to herself than to her attendant, as she came out of the rooms.
"Shall I go through the house and inquire if any one has seen her grace, my lady?" respectfully suggested Margaret.
"Yes; but first shut and lock that garden door of your lady's bath-room. It is not safe to leave it open," replied Lady Belgrade, as she again descended the stairs.
As she entered the drawing-room, the young Duke of Hereward came to meet her.
"I hope nothing is the matter. Salome was not looking strong this morning. And this delay? I trust that she is well?" he said, in an anxious, inquiring tone.