"Not a word," untruthfully affirmed Hal. "Yet she is not in the house; she has written to say she has gone away," said Mr. Churchill. "Gone away?" repeated Will, in great surprise. "Where has she gone?" "She does not say where," answered his father. "This must be seen to at once. Sarah, go and ask the servants if they know anything." Mrs. Churchill obeyed her husband, but the servants knew nothing. "Miss," the housemaid said, had told her she had a headache, and would not sit up to supper. She had not seen her go out, and "miss" had requested her not to go into her room, as she hoped to go to sleep and did not wish to be disturbed. This was all Mrs. Churchill learned in the kitchen, but when she again went up to May's bedroom she found that a small leather trunk, that belonged to her, and nearly all her best clothes, had also disappeared. Her flight, therefore, had been clearly premeditated. Someone also must have assisted her, as it was almost impossible that she could have carried away her trunk herself. Mrs. Churchill went down and told her husband all this, and he once more questioned the boys, but both denied they knew anything about it; Willie truthfully, Hal untruthfully. "Take my word for it, she has run away with someone," repeated Mrs. Churchill. Mr. Churchill now began to think there must be some truth in this. It could not be young Henderson, as she disliked him so much; and then there was Mr. Goodall, the curate--but no, May always laughed at him--and then suddenly Mr. Churchill remembered John Temple, and seeing May and him in the garden together in the moonlight. He gave a sort of exclamation as the idea struck him, but he said nothing. Mr. John Temple was his landlord's nephew and heir, and it was a very serious thing to bring any such accusation against him unless he had good grounds for it. "I will drive over to the station, and see if I can hear anything there," he said, hastily, and he accordingly did this, and was received in a friendly manner by the station-master, with whom he was well acquainted. "I want a word with you, Mr. Johnson," said Mr. Churchill, in some agitation. "Certainly, sir. Come in here," replied the station-master, leading Mr. Churchill into his private office. "Did you see anything of my daughter, yesterday?" now asked Mr. Churchill, in an anxious voice. "Oh, yes, sir, of course; I put her into the quarter-to-six train myself, on her road to London. She told me she was going to pay a visit there." "To London?" repeated Mr. Churchill; and he turned so pale that the station-master grew alarmed. "Nothing wrong, I hope, sir?" he said. "No," answered Mr. Churchill, with a sort of gasp. "The truth is, Johnson--don't mention this--but I'm afraid my daughter and my new wife did not get on over-well, and I think the foolish girl must have run away from home. Was she alone when she came to the station?"