Reluctantly she quitted her post, because nothing had happened, willingly because she hoped for definite information of some kind from her uncle. The coupé was at the door.
"Will you want me longer, miss?" asked Mike as she came out, prepared to go home.
"I suppose you ought to go," answered Clara, doubtfully.
"I dunno," said Mike, in the same manner; "me boss will be wonderin' what's become of the rig."
The long day, spent so far as he could see to no purpose, had tried him, and yet, had Clara said the word he would have remained in one spot through the night. Clara did not say it.
She, too, was fatigued, not more with the exertion of the first half of the day than with the tedious watching of she second.
"You may drive me home," she said wearily; "and if your employer will let you, you might come back in an hour or two to see if I need you."
Mike, therefore, drove away, when he had left Clara at Mr. Pembroke's gate.
She went up to the house, and Louise met her at the door with a white, frightened face.
"Papa is worse than ever," she whispered; "go to him at once. He is in the library."