“I have a fear,” said Nance suddenly, “which I cannot account for, nor explain away.” “You mean that you dread our dear little Murray may not be quickly found?” said Lady Georgina. “No,” answered Nance after a pause; “it would be wrong to deceive you or to make you think me better than I am. I love Murray, but my fear is not about him.” “Then what is it about, child? Ah, you need not tell me—you are troubled about your husband?” “He is unhappy, and he is away. I am much, much troubled.” “You are naturally nervous,” replied Lady Georgina. “Now, if you had known that good Adrian Rowton as long as I have, nothing that he did or said would surprise you—in short, you would cease to be nervous about one who is unaccountable. His ways are unaccountable, so is his mind, so also doubtless is his heart.” “No, no, there never was a heart like his,” interrupted Nance. “It shows its sunny side to you,” replied Lady Georgina; “to others——” she paused, her bright dancing eyes became grave. “Adrian comes of an eccentric family,” she continued, “eccentric to the verge—yes, I may as well say it, of insanity. His sister, poor thing! has been insane for years. Report whispers that Adrian gave her a dreadful shock, soon after Murray’s birth. Anyhow she went completely off her head, and has been insane ever since. As to Adrian himself, he has his own mad points. Oh, my dear child, there have been occasions when I have thought him as mad as a hatter, but all the same, I repeat once again, I have never met a more fascinating, a braver or more attractive man.” “Thank you for those good words,” Nance said impulsively. She left her seat, crossed the carriage, put her arms round Lady Georgina’s neck, and kissed her. “Thank you,” she repeated; “when even for a moment you see my husband as he really is, you give me inexpressible comfort.” “It is my honest opinion,” continued Lady Georgina, “that the only very great trouble you have to bear at present is the mysterious absence of dear little Murray. Your husband is doubtless taking steps to discover his whereabouts in town. As to his conduct in other respects, remember that I think nothing at all about it. He is queer, but not mad; he will never kick over the traces, or go too far in any one direction. You will most likely meet him to-morrow or the next day in London. By the way, do you know his address?” “No.” “I thought as much. Does he never give you his address when he leaves you?” “He has not done so hitherto.” “Again I may say, that I thought as much,” replied Lady Georgina, tapping her foot impatiently. “Did you really have no directions where letters are to be forwarded to?” “No.” “Where do you propose to spend the night yourself?” “I cannot tell, Lady Georgina. I only know that I am going to town; after that all is blank.”