Having revived his sinking energies in the fruit garden, Mirabelseated himself under the shade of a tree, and reflected on thecritical position in which he was placed by Francine's jealousy.

If Miss de Sor continued to be Mr. Wyvil's guest, there seemed tobe no other choice before Mirabel than to leave Monksmoor--and totrust to a favorable reply to his sister's invitation for thefree enjoyment of Emily's society under another roof. Try as hemight, he could arrive at no more satisfactory conclusion thanthis. In his preoccupied state, time passed quickly. Nearly anhour had elapsed before he rose to return to the house.

Entering the hall, he was startled by a cry of terror in awoman's voice, coming from the upper regions. At the same timeMr. Wyvil, passing along the bedroom corridor after leaving themusic-room, was confronted by his daughter, hurrying out ofEmily's bedchamber in such a state of alarm that she could hardlyspeak.

"Gone!" she cried, the moment she saw her father.

Mr. Wyvil took her in his arms and tried to compose her. "Who hasgone?" he asked.

"Emily! Oh, papa, Emily has left us! She has heard dreadfulnews--she told me so herself."

"What news? How did she hear it?"

"I don't know how she heard it. I went back to the drawing-roomto show her my roses--"

"Was she alone?"

"Yes! She frightened me--she seemed quite wild. She said, 'Let mebe by myself; I shall have to go home.' She kissed me--and ran upto her room. Oh, I am such a fool! Anybody else would have takencare not to lose sight of her."

"How long did you leave her by herself?"

"I can't say. I thought I would go and tell you. And then I gotanxious about her, and knocked at her door, and looked into theroom. Gone! Gone!"

Mr. Wyvil rang the bell and confided Cecilia to the care of hermaid. Mirabel had already joined him in the corridor. They wentdownstairs together and consulted with Alban. He volunteered tomake immediate inquiries at the railway station. Mr. Wyvilfollowed him, as far as the lodge gate which opened on thehighroad--while Mirabel went to a second gate, at the oppositeextremity of the park.

Mr. Wyvil obtained the first news of Emily. The lodge keeper hadseen her pass him, on her way out of the park, in the greatesthaste. He had called after her, "Anything wrong, miss?" and hadreceived no reply. Asked what time had elapsed since this hadhappened, he was too confused to be able to answer with anycertainty. He knew that she had taken the road which led to thestation--and he knew no more.

Mr. Wyvil and Mirabel met again at the house, and instituted anexamination of the servants. No further discoveries were made.

The question which occurred to everybody was suggested by thewords which Cecilia had repeated to her father. Emily had saidshe had "heard dreadful news"--how had that news reached her? Theone postal delivery at Monksmoor was in the morning. Had anyspecial messenger arrived, with a letter for Emily? The servantswere absolutely certain that no such person had entered thehouse. The one remaining conclusion suggested that somebody musthave communicated the evil tidings by word of mouth. But hereagain no evidence was to be obtained. No visitor had calledduring the day, and no new guests had arrived. Investigation wascompletely baffled.

Alban returned from the railway, with news of the fugitive.

He had reached the station, some time after the departure of theLondon train. The clerk at the office recognized his descriptionof Emily, and stated that she had taken her ticket for London.The station-master had opened the carriage door for her, and hadnoticed that the young lady appeared to be very much agitated.This information obtained, Alban had dispatched a telegram toEmily--in Cecilia's name: "Pray send us a few words to relieveour anxiety, and let us know if we can be of any service to you."

This was plainly all that could be done--but Cecilia was notsatisfied. If her father had permitted it, she would havefollowed Emily. Alban comforted her. He apologized to Mr. Wyvilfor shortening his visit, and announced his inten tion oftraveling to London by the next train. "We may renew ourinquiries to some advantage," he added, after hearing what hadhappened in his absence, "if we can find out who was the lastperson who saw her, and spoke to her, before your daughter foundher alone in the drawing-room. When I went out of the room, Ileft her with Miss de Sor."

The maid who waited on Miss de Sor was sent for. Francine hadbeen out, by herself, walking in the park. She was then in herroom, changing her dress. On hearing of Emily's sudden departure,she had been (as the maid reported) "much shocked and quite at aloss to understand what it meant."

Joining her friends a few minutes later, Francine presented, sofar as personal appearance went, a strong contrast to the paleand anxious faces round her. She looked wonderfully well, afterher walk. In other respects, she was in perfect harmony with theprevalent feeling. She expressed herself with the utmostpropriety; her sympathy moved poor Cecilia to tears.

"I am sure, Miss de Sor, you will try to help us?" Mr. Wyvilbegan

"With the greatest pleasure," Francine answered.

"How long were you and Miss Emily Brown together, after Mr.Morris left you?"

"Not more than a quarter of an hour, I should think."

"Did anything remarkable occur in the course of conversation?"

"Nothing whatever."

Alban interfered for the first time. "Did you say anything," heasked, "which agitated or offended Miss Brown?"

"That's rather an extraordinary question," Francine remarked.

"Have you no other answer to give?" Alban inquired.

"I answer--No!" she said, with a sudden outburst of anger.

There, the matter dropped. While she spoke in reply to Mr. Wyvil,Francine had confronted him without embarrassment. When Albaninterposed, she never looked at him--except when he provoked herto anger. Did she remember that the man who was questioning her,was also the man who had suspected her of writing the anonymousletter? Alban was on his guard against himself, knowing how hedisliked her. But the conviction in his own mind was not to beresisted. In some unimaginable way, Francine was associated withEmily's flight from the house.

The answer to the telegram sent from the railway station had notarrived, when Alban took his departure for London. Cecilia'ssuspense began to grow unendurable: she looked to Mirabel forcomfort, and found none. His office was to console, and hiscapacity for performing that office was notorious among hisadmirers; but he failed to present himself to advantage, when Mr.Wyvil's lovely daughter had need of his services. He was, intruth, too sincerely anxious and distressed to be capable ofcommanding his customary resources of ready-made sentiment andfluently-pious philosophy. Emily's influence had awakened theonly earnest and true feeling which had ever ennobled the popularpreacher's life.

Toward evening, the long-expected telegram was received at last.What could be said, under the circumstances, it said in thesewords:

"Safe at home--don't be uneasy about me--will write soon."

With that promise they were, for the time, forced to be content.