And now that the alarm was past, and that she had put forth her defence, it seemed better not to dwell upon this subject. Better to let it drop, she said to herself, better to let Effie think that it was over and nothing more to be made of it. Mrs. Ogilvie was a woman without temper and never ill-natured. She was very willing to let it drop. That she should receive her stepdaughter as if nothing had happened was clearly the right way. Therefore, though she had a thousand things now to say, and could have justified her proceedings in volumes, she decided not to do so; for she could also be self-denying when it was expedient so to be. There was therefore a pause. Mr. Moubray sat with his eyes fixed on the door and a great disquietude in his mind. He was asking himself what, if she appeared, he could do. Must he promise her her lover, as he would promise a child a plaything? must he ignore altogether the not unreasonable reasons which Mrs. Ogilvie had produced in justification of her conduct? They were abhorrent to his mind, as well as to that of Effie, yet from her point of view they were not unreasonable. But if Effie was not there? Mr. Ogilvie said nothing at all, but he walked from one end of the room to another working his shaggy eyebrows. It was evident he was not so tranquil in his mind as he had pretended to be. Presently Margaret the housemaid appeared, after a modest tap at the door. “Miss Effie is not in her room, mem,” she said. “Not in her room? are you quite sure? Perhaps she is in the library waiting for her papa; perhaps she is in the nursery with Rory. She may even have gone into the kitchen, to speak a word to old Mary, or to Pirie’s cottage to see if there are any flowers. You will find her somewhere if you look. Quick, quick, and tell her the minister wants her. You are sure, both of you gentlemen, that you saw her come in at the gate?” “No doubt she came in,” said Mr. Ogilvie with irritation; “where else would she go at this time of night?” “I am not sure at all,” said Mr. Moubray, rising up, “I never thought so: and here I have been sitting losing time. I will go myself to Pirie’s cottage--and after that----” “There is nothing to be frightened about,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, rising too; “if she’s not at Pirie’s she will be at Rosebank, or else she will be in one of the cottages, or else--bless me, there are twenty places she may be, and nothing to make a panic about.” The minister went out in the middle of this speech waving his hand to her as he went away, and she followed him to the door, calling out her consolations across the passage. She met her husband, who was about to follow, as she turned back, and caught his arm with her hands. “Robert, you’re not in this daft excitement too? Where in the world would she go to, as you say? She’ll just have run somewhere in her pet, not to see me. There can be nothing to be terrified about.”