"I trust not. I think he's safe enough somewhere," said Mr. Walters. "He's no doubt been very cautious, and avoided meeting any one—don't worry yourself, my child, 'tis most likely he remained with them wherever they went; probably they are at the house of some of their neighbours."
"I can't help feeling dreadfully oppressed and anxious," continued she. "I wish he would come."
Whilst she was speaking, her mother entered the room. "Any news of your father?" she asked, in a tone of anxiety.
Esther endeavoured to conceal her own apprehensions, and rejoined, in as cheerful tone as she could assume—"Not yet, mother—it's too dark for us to expect him yet—he'll remain most likely until daylight."
"He shouldn't have gone had I been here—he's no business to expose himself in this way."
"But, mother," interrupted Esther, "only think of it—the safety of Emily and the children were depending on it—we mustn't be selfish."
"I know we oughtn't to be, my child," rejoined her mother, "but it's natural to the best of us—sometimes we can't help it." Five—six—seven o'clock came and passed, and still there were no tidings of Mr. Ellis.
"I can bear this suspense no longer," exclaimed Esther. "If father don't come soon, I shall go and look for him. I've tried to flatter myself that he's safe; but I'm almost convinced now that something has happened to him, or he'd have come back long before this—he knows how anxious we would all be about him. I've tried to quiet mother and Caddy by suggesting various reasons for his delay, but, at the same time, I cannot but cherish the most dismal forebodings. I must go and look for him."
"No, no, Esther—stay where you are at present—leave that to me. I'll order a carriage and go up to Garie's immediately."
"Well, do, Mr. Walters, and hurry back: won't you?" she rejoined, as he left the apartment.