“Miss Gertrude? Miss Gertrude?” came from the stairs; and upon their going to the door, it was to see the old housekeeper hurrying down. “Master’s not in his room, my dear.”
“What?”
“I knocked till I grew nervous, thinking he might be in a fit, and then I turned the handle, and went in.”
“And he is not there,” cried Gertrude. “Now, Mrs Hampton,” she added, as she turned triumphantly on her old friend, “now what have you to say for yourself. Yes! Look!” she cried, as she ran to the hat stand. “We might have known—hat and stick not here. I felt sure he must have gone for a long morning stroll.”
“Well, I’m glad I am wrong,” said Mrs Hampton sharply. “Then we have been fidgeting ourselves for nothing. Eh, Denton? Yes? What is it?”
She had suddenly caught sight of the old housekeeper making signs to her, and screwing up her face in a most mysterious way!
“Yes, Denton, what is it? Why don’t you speak?” cried Gertrude, as she caught sight of the old woman’s action.
“I—I—nothing, my dear, only he is not there,” said Denton hesitatingly.
“What are you keeping back?” said Gertrude firmly.
“N-othing, my dear.”