"No, he didn't," was the abrupt reply; "he went away at ten o'clock."
"With Miss Wesden, of course," was the apparently careless answer.
"Yes, with Miss Wesden. He never stops here."
"Where does he live?"
"I don't know—somewhere about here, I believe."
"Ask his address of your mistress," cried Mattie, becoming excited as the truth seemed to loom before her with all its horror; "I must see him!"
The servant-maid's eyes became rounder, and she gasped forth—
"I'll—I'll wake missus."
"Ask her to oblige me with Mr. Darcy's address—and please make haste."
The servant withdrew, leaving Mattie standing in the draughty side passage, dark and dense as the fate of her whom she loved appeared to be from that day. She could hear the sweep bustling and bundling about the kitchen noisily; it seemed an age before the servant's feet came clumpeting down the stairs again.