Eversleigh knew very well that it would never do to let any one but himself look after Silwood's department.
The day of Silwood's disappearance wore to its end; the next day, Sunday, passed. It saw the lovers at Ivydene much engrossed with themselves, but not to such an extent as to prevent many comments on the delay in Morris Thornton's coming, and some surmises as to its cause, the chief of which was that he was carrying out his idea of giving Kitty a "surprise"—carrying it a little further than she had expected. Though she was disappointed, she was not alarmed.
On the Monday of that week, Francis Eversleigh, looking more haggard and wretched than before, was again at 176, New Square.
"Will Thornton come to-day?" he asked himself, despairingly.
He strove to keep calm and hide his sufferings from the world, but every moment was torture. Yet Monday went the way of all former Mondays, and still Morris Thornton did not come. And so it was with Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday, and Saturday; the week was gone, and Thornton had not appeared!
Pondering this fact, Eversleigh, who remembered what Thornton had said about his ill-health, was inclined to the conclusion that somewhere on the road his old friend had had an attack, and had broken down. But, if this were the case, why had he not sent, or caused to be sent, a message to the firm or to his daughter? Eversleigh knew she had not heard anything further from her father, nor had the firm heard from Thornton.
In one sense, the non-appearance of Thornton was a relief to Francis Eversleigh—it put the day of judgment off; but in another, the prolonging of the suspense intensified his mental agony.
Thornton's silence was as terrible as it was really inexplicable.
Kitty, who was not aware of her father's serious condition, and hence could not frame from that circumstance a possible explanation of his not coming, was greatly perplexed.
At first she felt no fear, and kept saying to herself and to Gilbert—to whom, of course, she talked of all that was in her heart—that she would see her father to-morrow or next day; but to-morrow became to-day, and next day to-morrow, and yet he did not appear. And there was nothing from him—not a single line!