“I am,” he acknowledged, frankly. “I have only very recently learned this story about the Dales, and their connection with my own family. Yesterday, while I was out riding, I came to a small cottage which attracted my attention. I dismounted and went to peer in at one of the windows, but every curtain was down. I finally forced an entrance by a back door, and found the house furnished just as its occupants had left it many years ago. I was convinced from what I had already heard that it was the Dale cottage.”
“Was it a small white cottage, standing near an old mill, and not far from the pond? Was there a low ornamental fence around the yard, and a veranda entirely surrounding the house?” Miss Southern asked.
“Yes; you have described it exactly.”
“And is it still furnished?”
“I should judge it remains just as they left it.”
“That is strange, for it is more than twenty years since Annie Dale left it to come to Richmond,” mused Miss Southern. “It was very good of Colonel Mapleson to leave it so,” she added; “perhaps he disliked to disturb anything, hoping that the wanderer might some time return.”
Everet did not say what he thought, but his face wore a troubled look.
“You were going to tell me what your theory is regarding Miss Dale’s disappearance,” he remarked.
“I think there was a lover in the case,” she replied. “I believe she must have made the acquaintance of some young man, who was enamored of her beauty, and who, having won her heart, enticed her to go away with him to some place, promising to marry her, and who then—betrayed her confidence.”
“Then you think she was never married?” said the young man, flushing with excitement to find how like her theory his own was.