"What steps have you taken to find her?" was his answer.
"We have looked everywhere in the garden and park and I have sent Walter to Elminster to find out all he can. But he has come back baffled."
"Has she no friends at all?" asked Peter. "Except that young man? Did she ever talk of anyone to you to whom she may have gone?"
"No, I'm afraid she has no friends," said Sheila, and her own assertion added to the shame she was beginning to feel at her action. "I was afraid," she added, "that you would not approve of what I have done."
"Approve of what? Of sending a friendless girl adrift in the world? A girl who would have laid down her life for you, and whom you taught to love all that you enjoy? You are right. You could scarcely expect me to approve of that."
"Oh, Peter!" Sheila looked at him reproachfully. He had never spoken so severely to her nor looked so stern. She burst into tears.
He took no notice of her tears.
"Every step must be taken to find her," he said shortly, "and to place her in a place of safety. It is terrible to think of a girl like that alone in the world, and," he added, as he turned to look at Sheila, "it is sad indeed to think that she is placed in this condition by one who has all the good things of life around her. I am disappointed in you, Sheila. But I must go and see what can be done."
Peter ordered his cart and drove at once to the carpenter's shop and asked for the address of the young man who had put up the platform at the Court for the concert.
"What kind of a man is he?" asked Peter.