“Never mind about that,” answered Audrey; “I would rather you did not trouble.”
“Very well—as you like; and thank you, Miss Wynford, a hundred times. I have had a heavenly evening—something to live for. I shall live on the thoughts of it for many and many a day. Good night, Miss Wynford.”
“But stay!” cried Audrey—“stay! It is nearly midnight. How are you going to get home?”
“I shall get home all right,” said Sylvia.
“You cannot go alone.”
“Nonsense! Don’t keep me, please.”
Before Audrey had time to say a word Sylvia had rushed down-stairs. A side-door was open, she ran out into the night. Audrey stood still for a moment; then she saw Jasper, who had come silently into the room.
“Follow that young lady immediately,” she said. “Or, stay! Send one of the servants. The servant must find her and go home with her. I do not know where she lives, but she cannot be allowed to go out by herself at this hour of night.”
Jasper ran down-stairs, and Audrey waited in Evelyn’s pretty bedroom. Already there were symptoms all over the room of its new owner’s presence; a marked disarrangement of the furniture had already taken place. The room, from being the very soul of order, seemed now to represent the very spirit of unrest. Jasper came back, panting slightly.
“I sent a man after the young lady, miss, but she is nowhere to be seen. I suppose she knows how to find her way home.”