"Oh, I do not know. There is something wrong—very mysterious—about it. Oh, why is there not a steamer ready to sail this instant? I believe I shall go mad with this delay!" cried the baronet, in an agony of fear and suspense.
But he had to wait until Saturday in spite of his suffering though he had not even gone from Heathdale two hours when Lady Linton received a letter bearing the United States postmark.
Of course it was from Mrs. Farnum, who gave a detailed account of all that had transpired regarding Virgie's sudden departure, and assuring her that no one in the hotel suspected her agency in the matter, or had any idea that she knew anything regarding the girl previous to her coming there. They did not even know that she was from England; she confided that fact to Virgie alone, simply to further her schemes regarding her.
Lady Linton uttered a sigh of relief over this letter. Her brother would not find his wife in New York, and his journey would be all in vain, she told herself, and yet she would not feel at ease until she had him safely at home again.
Sir William thought the voyage across the Atlantic would never end, and yet it was a very quick and prosperous passage. When the steamer touched her pier in New York he was the first of all the eager passengers to spring ashore, and rushing for a carriage, without even stopping to attend to his baggage, he gave orders to be driven directly to the hotel where he had left Virgie.
Mr. Eldridge quaked visibly and grew deadly pale when Sir William suddenly presented himself in his office and demanded of him the reason of his wife leaving his house.
The polite hotel-keeper's blandness all failed him for once, and, with much stammering and confusion, with many apologies and excuses, he confessed that there had arisen a rumor—how he could not say—to the effect that the lady was not Mrs. Heath at all, that her supposed husband was an English nobleman who had deceived her; that his patrons had insisted upon her leaving, or they would; and thus, after a hint from him as to how matters stood, she had quietly gone away.
Sir William was furious at this, and the landlord was actually frightened at the tempest his story had aroused.
"And you allowed such a malicious slander to drive a delicate and unprotected woman and her child homeless into the street?" cried the baronet, with sublime scorn.
"Ah, sir, I was helpless. The honor of my house must be sustained, and there was so much evidence to make the story appear true," said the man deprecatingly.