“So far, with two incorrect ones. I have in my hands now a third address to a lodging-house in Duchess Street, Oxford Street, whither they have tracked a woman who exactly answers to the description I have furnished. I was on my way thither from the detective office when, passing this street, I resolved to speak with you. Hilary, I hardly know whether I hope or dread to find her. I have suffered so much during the past three days that I have come to wish that she or I were dead.”
“But your love for her——”
“She herself killed that. My great dread is lest the affair should reach the ears of my people. If I can only find her first, and put her away somewhere quietly until she recovers her reason! That is my one hope now.”
Hilary, on his part, was so profoundly shocked by his friend’s story that he knew not what to suggest by way of alleviating his grief and anxiety. The pair very shortly afterward parted, Lord Carthew having promised to return and report the success or failure of his mission.
Hilary had long ago forgotten his breakfast. Swallowing a cup of tepid tea, he sought the open air, there to reflect on the strange story he had just heard. He had struck into the Strand, and was about to cross Trafalgar Square, when his attention was attracted by the figure of a girl, tall, slender, and attired in shabby black, who stood, hesitating and frightened, between the rows of hurrying cabs, carriages, and omnibuses which were incessantly passing.
Something in the outline of her figure, for her face was concealed by a thick black crape veil, attracted Hilary’s attention so strongly that he resolved at once to see her over the crossing, that he might set at rest a strange suspicion which shot across his heart.
In a few seconds he was at her side, addressing her as a stranger, and offering to escort her over the road through the crowded traffic. But she, regardless of the publicity of the spot, gave a little cry of surprise and delight at sight of him, and throwing back her veil, displayed the lovely, flushed face and brilliant eyes of Stella.
“Hilary!” she murmured, joyfully. “Oh, I am so glad! Yes, see me across the road—I am not used to crowds, and take me somewhere where we can have a beautiful long talk. It is my first walk alone in London, and I haven’t the least idea where we are.”
He listened to her in ever-increasing wonder, and after piloting her safely through the vehicles, he led her down to the comparative seclusion of St. James’ Park.
There he turned and faced her.