"Yes; to-morrow," she replied, and turned, weeping, from him. But when he came next morning Father Vincent met him at the door, while the old lady and Aunt Dilsey hovered in the hall with frightened, excited faces. Fear, vague, indefinite, but chilling, fell upon him. He had spent half the night in thinking and planning; he had felt assured that it needed only time and change of scene to restore Madeline to her former brightness; but even if a cloud should always hang over her, he wished to share its gloom. He could not fully appreciate her position, because he could not look at it from her standpoint. He could understand that it had been a cruel blow to her, but he could not understand how tragical. He felt very hopeful as he walked over to her home, but the face of the priest, those women in the background, startled him. "What is the matter?" he cried sharply. "She is gone," said Father Vincent. "Gone!" he echoed, paling suddenly, and half reeling. "Yes." "Where? In God’s name, where?" "That is what we do not know. She must have gone away on the early train this morning." The blood came back to the young man’s face, a hideous fear lifted from his mind. "You do not think then—" "No; a Capelle would never seek self-destruction." Everett stood still and looked about the hall and through the open doors into the silent rooms, yesterday filled with the sweet influence of her presence, to-day empty, desolate, and a terrible sense of loss swept over him. Her words, "You will know my decision to-morrow," came back to his memory with crushing significance. "Fool, fool that I have been!" he groaned aloud, and the priest took him by the arm and led him into the parlor. "The women think her mind has been upset by her mother’s sudden death. It is well; let all her friends think so. But we must find her, Mr. Everett." "Yes; I will go at once," said Roger, rousing himself. "It is to hide from me that she has gone away; but I shall find her, I shall certainly find her." He spoke firmly and quietly, but the task before him proved very hard, for she had left no written message, no clue to her plans or destination.