Mine was a somewhat lame opinion, I knew, but I merely expressed it for want of something better to say.
“But he would never have kept me in this suspense,” she declared. “He would have sent me word in secret of his safety.”
“He may have gone on a long sea-voyage, and if so, would be unable. Suppose he has gone to Rio de Janeiro or Buenos Ayres?”
“But why should he go?” asked the dark-eyed girl. “His affairs are all in order, are they not, madame?”
“Perfectly,” declared the old woman. “As I was saying last evening to the English gentleman whom we have met in the hotel—what was his name, Pierrette?”
“Sir Charles Blythe,” replied the other.
I could not help giving a start at mention of that name.
Blythe was there—at Beaulieu!
I think Pierrette must have noticed the change in my countenance, for she asked—
“Do you happen to know him? He’s a most charming gentleman.”