Mary Hughes got back to Mrs. Arkell's: she had found it all too true. Martha Ann had taken her opportunity to steal out of the house, and was gone. Mary Hughes, in relating this, could not sneak for sobs. "My sister says she could be upon her Bible oath, if necessary, that at twenty-five minutes past eight Martha Ann was still at home. She called out something to her up the stairs, and Martha Ann answered her. She must have crept down directly upon that, and got off, and run all the way along the bank, and across the three-cornered field. She--she----" the girl could not go on for sobs. Tring's eyes were full. "Is your sister much cut up?" she asked. "Oh, Tring!"--and indeed the question seemed a bitter mockery to Mary Hughes--"I'm sure Sophia has had her death-blow. What a thing it is that I was engaged out to work to-day! If I had been at home, she might not have got away unseen." Tring sighed. There was no consolation that she could offer. "I was always against the acquaintance," Mary Hughes resumed, between her tears and sobs; "Sophia knows I was. I said more than once that even if Mr. Robert Carr married her, they'd never be equals. I'd have stopped it if I could, but I've no voice beside Sophia's, and I couldn't stop it. And now, of course, it's all over, and Martha Ann is lost; and she'd a deal better have never been born." Nothing more satisfactory was heard or seen of the fugitives. They stayed a short time in London, and then went abroad, it was understood, to Holland. Those who wished well to the girl were in hopes that Robert Carr married her in London, but there appeared no ground whatever for the hope. Indeed, from certain circumstances that afterwards transpired, it was quite evident he did not. Westerbury gradually recovered its equanimity; but there are people living in it to this day who never have believed, and never will believe, but that William Arkell was privy to the flight. CHAPTER VI. A MISERABLE MISTAKE. The time again went on--went on to March--and still Charlotte Travice lingered. It was some little while now that both Mr. and Mrs. Arkell had come to the conclusion within their own minds that the young lady's visit had lasted long enough, but they were of that courteous nature that shrunk not only from hinting such a thing to her, but to each other. She was made just as welcome as ever, and she appeared in no hurry to hasten her departure. One afternoon Mildred, who had been out on an errand, was accosted by her mother before she had well entered. "Whatever has made you so long, child?" "Have I been so long?" returned Mildred. "I had to go to two or three shops before I could match the ribbon. I met Mary Pembroke, and she went with me; but I walked fast." "It is past five." "Yes, it has struck. But I did not go out until four, mother."