"Tell Jarvis to search the gardens—the stables—to look up and down the road."
"Yes, madam," and the maid hurried away in search of Jarvis.
Mrs. Chichester turned again to her guest:
"Pardon me—Mr. Brent."
"I'm just leaving, Mrs. Chichester."
"Oh, but you needn't—" expostulated that lady.
"I'm going abroad to-morrow. I just called to say good-bye."
"Indeed?" said Mrs. Chichester. "Well, I hope you and Mrs. Brent have a very pleasant trip. You must both call the moment you return."
"Thank you," replied Brent. "Good-bye, Mrs. Chichester—and—Ethel—" He looked meaningly and significantly at Ethel as he stood in the doorway. The next moment he was gone.
Ethel was facing the problem of her future with no one to turn to and ask for guidance. Her mother least of all. Mrs. Chichester had never encouraged confidence between her children and herself, consequently, any crisis they reached they had to either decide for themselves or appeal to others. Ethel had to decide for herself between now and to-morrow morning. Next day it would be too late. What was she to do? Always loath to make up her mind until forced to, she decided to wait until night.