“The quarrel you and your ward had about the masquerade.”
“What of that? she is not gone there?” he cried.
“I am not sure she is,” returned Mrs. Horton; “but if your Lordship saw two sedan chairs going out of this house, I cannot but suspect it must be Miss Milner and my niece going to the masquerade.”
He made no answer, but rang the bell violently. A servant entered. “Send Miss Milner’s maid hither,” said he, “immediately.” The man withdrew.
“Nay, my Lord,” cried Mrs. Horton, “any of the other servants could tell you just as well, whether Miss Milner is at home, or gone out.”
“Perhaps not,” replied he.
The maid entered.
“Where is your mistress?” said Lord Elmwood.
The woman had received no orders to conceal where the ladies were gone, and yet a secret influence which governs the thoughts of all waiting-women and chambermaids, whispered to her that she ought not to tell the truth.
“Where is your mistress?” repeated he, in a louder voice than before.