Mr. Wallingford was greatly shocked at her words. He turned from her with such a distressed countenance that her fears for him were at once aroused.
"Forgive me," she plead, grasping his hand. "I am indeed ungrateful when I say such words to you. Forgive me; and I will promise to be governed by your wishes. Only think of Marion; and ask yourself whether you could ever turn from her."
"Paul forsook you," he murmured, seating himself on a couch and putting his hand to his head. "Let us talk of this no more to-day. We are unfit; at least I am to decide what is best. I will take the earliest opportunity to inquire what character he bears in the city. After all we must be governed by that."
[CHAPTER XVII.]
THE WINTER IN ROME.
BUT day after day passed and every inquiry proved unavailing. No one knew any thing of a man by that name. Mr. Wallingford then engaged the police to continue the search, which was equally unsuccessful; and they were forced to the conclusion that Mr. Dudley was not a resident in Rome.
"But may he not have taken another name?" suggested Gertrude.
"I have thought of that; but what good will it do you to see him? What object is there in hunting for one who when found very likely will cause you fresh grief. You were forgetting him; and I consider it very unfortunate that he ever came in your path."
"I have never forgotten to pray for him one day since we parted," faltered Gertrude, turning to leave the room.
Mr. Wallingford did, indeed, consider it a misfortune, when he witnessed the effect of this incident on his sister. She grew nervous and excitable; restless when in doors; and when out, continually on the watch for one who never came.