"So much so that he did me the honour to ask me to be his wife," replied Olive, gravely, "but, of course, I am engaged to Adrian. Ah, poor Adrian! I wonder where he can be?"
"Wait and hope."
"I'm tired of waiting and hoping," said the girl, petulantly. "There was enough about this affair in the papers already, and I want Adrian to come forward and defend himself from the malicious tongues of busybodies. Philip Trevanna will stand by him."
"Well, I'm sure I don't know what to advise," said poor Sir John, helplessly, "unless you ask Doctor Roversmire."
"A drowning man will clutch at a straw," observed Olive, after a pause. "I do not believe much in Doctor Roversmire and his relations with the supernatural world, still, if I could see him, I would ask him to use his knowledge for the benefit of Adrian. Do you know where he lives, father?"
"At Hampstead, I believe."
"Then I will write to him, to-night. Mind you, I don't believe any good will come of it; still, I'm so anxious to find Adrian that I'd consult even a fortune-teller."
She spoke in a scoffing tone which appeared to wound her father, and he was about to remonstrate with her upon her levity when a servant entered and gave her a card. Olive glanced carelessly at it and then started in surprise as she handed it to her father, for the name inscribed thereon was that of Dr. Roversmire.
"Your prophet of theosophy must certainly have had an intuitive instinct he was wanted," she observed idly.
"At all events he could not come at a better time," replied Sir John, with a smile. "Ask Dr. Roversmire to come in."