“I caught it up again though, the next moment, and read it out to my wife. It was as follows:—
“‘50, Woodmount Square.’
“‘Wednesday.’
“‘Sir,—It is an unpleasant task, but as I have had your daughter living beneath my roof, I feel it to be my duty to inform you that two days ago she left here in a clandestine manner, and has not thought proper to return. It is, of course, a very painful admission to make, especially to her father, but as it is a duty, I do not shrink therefrom. Your daughter’s conduct has given Mrs Saint Ray great cause for anxiety from the first, as it has been flighty, and not at all lady-like. We should very shortly have dismissed her, as we do not approve of gentlemen visiting the instructress of our children. As she has, however, taken this step, I have no more to say, and feeling that I have done my duty,’
“‘I am,’
“‘Your obedient Servant,’
“‘Alexander Saint Ray.’
“‘Mr Hendrick.’
“If I had any remnant of my old weakness hanging about before, it was all cleared away now, as I stood tearing the letter to fragments.
“‘It’s a lie—a wicked, atrocious lie!’ I exclaimed, stamping on the pieces. ‘Our darling has been driven away, or there is something wrong. She would never act like this.’
“‘Never, Harry,’ exclaimed my wife, who stood there flushed and angry one moment, pale as ashes the next. ‘But stop! what are you going to do?’
“‘Going to do?’ I roared, ‘going to seek for our child.’
“‘But you are not strong enough—the agitation—’
“‘Strong! agitation!’ I exclaimed, catching her so tightly by the arm that she winced. ‘Look at me, Lizzy; I never felt stronger in my life.’
“In less than an hour I was being whirled up to town by the train, and on reaching the station, the cab that took me on to Woodmount Square seemed to crawl.
“I thundered so at the knocker, and dragged so fiercely at the visitors’ bell, that the footman in a tawdry livery stared at me aghast as he opened the door, and I strode in.