On reaching town in the cold, gray, early morning, Lady Gwendolyn drove to a quiet little hotel, and then, in spite of herself, she was obliged to let Phœbe put her to bed, for she was so utterly weary she could scarcely speak. But mindful of her master’s orders, Phœbe took the law into her own hands, and made Lady Gwendolyn take a bowl of hot soup and a glass of wine. She was passive now from sheer lassitude, and after awhile fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Phœbe sat by her for about an hour, during which time she never once stirred. And then she began to feel so drowsy herself, she was glad to remember that Lady Gwendolyn had told her to go and lie down. Phœbe was not naturally a heavy sleeper, but then she had been up all night, and was so dead beat by this time, that no sooner did her head touch the pillow than she lost count of everything. The clock striking roused her, and she sprang off the bed and rubbed her eyes, glancing anxiously at the hour. In her dismay she found it was exactly four! Phœbe smoothed her hair and dress, and darted off to her mistress’ room. Too much shocked at her own neglect to think of an excuse, she knocked softly at the door, and, receiving no answer, concluded that Lady Gwendolyn was still asleep, and ventured to enter. But the room was empty, and the strangest part of it all was, that Lady Gwendolyn’s bonnet, and the dark cloak in which she had traveled, were gone from the place in which Phœbe had put them. And so also were the muff and gloves, and minor accessories of her outdoor toilet. It was difficult to suppose that, after such a fatiguing journey, and other things taken into account as well, a delicate person like Lady Gwendolyn would have gone out into the cold. But as she was not to be found, this seemed the only feasible solution of the mystery; and Phœbe went down-stairs to see if she could get any information on the subject. In the passage she came upon a very polite waiter, who was quite willing to tell her all he knew, and even a little more. He knew the lady at No. 10 had gone out, for he had fetched her a carriage himself. But after he had sufficiently admired Phœbe’s black eyes, which had done great havoc among couriers and valets since she had been abroad, he did hint that the head chambermaid would know more about it than he did, as she had been summoned to the lady’s room, and had brought down the order for the carriage. “Perhaps you will kindly tell me where to find her, then?” “I’ll go and fetch her, miss,” answered the obliging waiter, and vanished, returning presently with rather a sour-faced woman of forty, whom he introduced as Miss Smith. And Miss Smith, who was more amiable than she looked, was able to give Phœbe all the information she required, and a message from Lady Gwendolyn to boot, that she had gone away upon business, and should not, probably, be back until the evening of the next day.