"I knew Master Edward before I knew you, sir," replied Oswald.
"Then you had better follow him," rejoined the intendant, in an angry tone.
"Very well, sir," replied Oswald, who quitted the room.
"Good Heaven! how all my plans have been frustrated!" exclaimed the intendant, when he was alone. He then read the letter over more carefully than he had done at first. "'Circumstances had occurred of which no explanation could be given by him.' I do not comprehend that—I must see Patience."
Mr. Heatherstone opened the door, and called to his daughter.
"Patience," said Mr. Heatherstone, "Edward has left the house this morning; here is a letter which he has written to me. Read it, and let me know if you can explain some portion of it, which to me is incomprehensible. Sit down and read it attentively."
Patience, who was much agitated, gladly took the seat and perused Edward's letter. When she had done so, she let it drop in her lap and covered all her face, the tears trickling through her fingers. After a time, the intendant said,
"Patience, has any thing passed between you and Edward Armitage?"
Patience made no reply, but sobbed aloud. She might not have shown so much emotion, but it must be remembered that for the last three weeks since Edward had spoken to her, and during his subsequent illness, she had been very unhappy. The reserve of Humphrey, the expressions he had made use of, his repulse of Clara, and her not having seen anything of Edward during his illness, added to his sudden and unexpected departure without a word to her, had broken her spirits, and she sank beneath the load of sorrow.
The intendant left her to recover herself before he again addressed her. When she had ceased sobbing, her father spoke to her in a very kind voice, begging her that she would not conceal any thing from him, as it was most important to him that the real facts should be known.