“Better call up Alick,” suggested Arthur; and, accordingly, Alick was called.
“They have four hours’ start,” said the young man, practically, when he had heard Heather’s story, “and their plans must have been well laid. I will follow if you like, but I think it is useless. They are in London by this time.”
“What makes you think they have gone to London?” asked Heather.
“Because it is the only place in which to be lost,” answered the youth. And the three stood and looked at each other for a few moments in utter silence.
A great blow had suddenly fallen on them, and they felt stunned with its force.
That such a thing should have happened there! that they should all have bidden each other good-night, without a suspicion of coming evil—and that this should have come to pass before morning!
Heather was the first to speak.
“And Mr. Harcourt, too—what will he say?”
“If he be a wise man, ‘that he is well rid of her,’” answered Arthur. “She must be a bad girl—a bad, false girl.”
“But, oh! so good to Lally,” said Heather, deprecatingly; “and I do not think it was of her own free will she went now—I do not—I believe she was driven to it. Read her letter, Arthur—read how she says she tried to like Mr. Harcourt, and how her mother forced her on. If I only knew she were married, I could rest satisfied.”