A few moments later young Lady Pelham left the Towers.
Barbara did not look back as she was bowled up the avenue. Had she done so she would have seen little Mrs. Ives standing near one of the side entrances bobbing her accustomed curtseys.
Mrs. Ives was in a sad state of indecision. She had also received a letter by that morning’s post. It was from her daughter Clara. Clara had desired her to stay where she was, to keep her secret, and on no account to leave Pelham Towers until she got further directions.
“Unless you want to ruin me forever, you will do what I require,” wrote Clara in her peremptory manner.
Mrs. Ives was shaken and agitated.
“I ask, both for your sake and that of the child,” said Clara finally, and Mrs. Ives felt that she must submit.
Meanwhile Barbara hurried quickly up to town. Oh, that she could get to Dick on the wings of thought! The long delay, the awful suspense were terrible.
At last the journey was over and she found herself at Paddington. She had come up to town without luggage, and got into a hansom immediately. Until this moment she had not remembered that she did not really know where to find Dick. When the cabman asked her for directions she paused for a moment to consider.
“Drive to 12 Ashley Mansions, near Harley Street,” she said to him.
The man whipped up his horse and in a short time the cab drew up at the familiar door. Barbara got out, ran up the steps, and rang the bell. The servant, who knew her well, opened the door. He started quite perceptibly when he saw her.