“No; I saw her walk towards the house by herself. I’ll get up and dress directly. Perhaps I can do some good. The poor girl has been overcome by the heat, Bolter, and fainted away somewhere in the grounds. We’ll both dress and come on directly, Mr Perowne. Have the shrubberies searched again. Henry, go and rouse up Arthur; he may be useful.”
“Yes, call him,” said the Resident; “he was seen with her last, and may know where she went.”
Volume Two—Chapter Three.
In the Middle of the Night.
All Mrs Bolter’s dislike to Helen vanished now that there was trouble on the way; and dressing hastily, she ran across the little bamboo landing to knock at her brother’s door, but without receiving any answer, and knocking again sharply, she ran back to her own room to continue dressing.
She threw open the window to admit a few breaths of fresher air, and in the silence of the night she could hear the receding steps of their late visitors. Then turning sharply she found Dr Bolter yawning fearfully.
“Don’t be so unfeeling, Henry!” she cried; “who knows what may have happened?”
“Unfeeling be hanged!” he said, tetchily. “I only yawned.”