CHAPTER XXXV. THE ASSIGNATION.
On the morning after Christmas Day, 18—, the Rev. Charles Santley, vicar of Omberley, rose early from that sweet slumber which only the righteous enjoy, and from those nightly visions of celestial bliss which only the pure of heart are suffered to behold. Although, infant-like, he had been “talking with angels in his sleep” all night, he looked pale, careworn, and anxious. He dressed himself with unusual care, surveyed himself again and again in the mirror, sighed softly, and descended to the sitting-room, where his sister was already awaiting him at the breakfast-table.
To his surprise, she looked unusually agitated, and addressed him eagerly the moment he appeared.
“I am so glad you are come down. Rachel has just been here from the cottage, where they are in a terrible state of alarm.”
Rachel was the name of Miss Russell’s maidservant.
“But what is the matter?”
“Edith went out early yesterday evening, and she has not returned. They cannot guess what has become of her. Oh, Charles, go over at once! If anything has happened to her!”
The clergyman listened in no little agitation.