"I shall see you, I presume, in London?" he said, lingering a little.
"If you like to call at the Langham Hotel, I shall be there for a fortnight," she answered, and his face lit up with a happy smile as he went off.
"Why did you do that Carmela?" asked the Marchese in a vexed tone; "we don't want to see him in London."
"You may not; I do," replied Miss Cotoner, with calm contempt. "Shall we go on shore now Sir Mark?" and without another word, she went off with the Baronet and his daughter, leaving him alone.
"So he has not given up the chase yet," muttered Vassalla, as he looked after the luggage, "well, we shall see, we shall see."
Mrs. Pellypop, to her disgust, found no one to meet her, so went off to the Langham Hotel, and wrote a severe letter to the Bishop, which had the effect of bringing the prelate up to London next day.
And so they all went their different ways, and the happy family on board the "Neptune" was scattered abroad through the streets of London town.
Ronald saw the Captain before he left, and had a talk with him about Ventin's death, promising to look up his barrister friend on the morrow. Then he went with Pat to the Tavistock, where they had a capital little dinner, after which they patronised the Alhambra, followed by a supper at the Cavour. Then, though Pat was inclined to make a wet night of it--particularly as they had met several of the boys at the theatre--Ronald went to his hotel, and retired soberly to bed, first, however, posting his letter of introduction to Gerald Foster, of Middle Temple, so that he could call on him on the morrow, and speak with him about the mysterious death of his friend.
"I'll find out who killed poor Ventin," he said as he went to bed, "and then I'll marry Carmela."