It was, I believe, a week after the interview with Mr. Stein, and with the picture drawing rapidly to a close, that Tish retired early one night and was inaccessible to us.
We were entirely unsuspicious, as the day had been a hard one, Tish having been washed from her horse while crossing a stream and having sunk twice before they stopped shooting the picture to rescue her.
Aggie, I remember, was remarking that after all Macmanus was a handsome man, and that some people wouldn’t object to being embraced by him at a thousand dollars a week, when Hannah came bolting in.
“She’s gone!” she cried.
“Gone? Who’s gone?”
“Miss Tish. Her room’s empty and I can’t find her valise.”
Only partially attired we rushed along the corridor. Hannah had been only too right. Our dear Tish had flown.
I did not then, nor do I now, admit that this flight, and the other which followed it, indicate any weakness in Letitia Carberry. The strongest characters must now and then face situations too strong for them and depart, as the poet says, “to fight another day.”
I do, however, question the wisdom of her course, for it put her enemies on guard and involved us finally in most unhappy circumstances.
Be that as it may, we had closed Tish’s door on its emptiness and were about to depart, when on turning she herself stood before us!