"Yes."
"Where? In God's name, where?"
"That is what we do not know. She must have gone away on the early train this morning."
The blood came back to the young man's face, a hideous fear lifted from his mind.
"You do not think then—"
"No; a Capelle would never seek self-destruction."
Everett stood still and looked about the hall and through the open doors into the silent rooms, yesterday filled with the sweet influence of her presence, to-day empty, desolate, and a terrible sense of loss swept over him. Her words, "You will know my decision to-morrow," came back to his memory with crushing significance.
"Fool, fool that I have been!" he groaned aloud, and the priest took him by the arm and led him into the parlor.
"The women think her mind has been upset by her mother's sudden death. It is well; let all her friends think so. But we must find her, Mr. Everett."
"Yes; I will go at once," said Roger, rousing himself. "It is to hide from me that she has gone away; but I shall find her, I shall certainly find her."