But many friends of the family called during the day, and of course the news spread rapidly. The vicar came, and his presence proved a great comfort, for he said what commended itself to all. “Be sure that Mary is in God’s keeping. No harm has come to her. For some reason or other Mary has absented herself rather than be married. It is a very strange thing; but we must not be too swift to blame her. She has really lived a very independent life, you know, and she has simply acted for herself now. Do you not think that is the explanation, Miss Miller?” And Margaret had little doubt that it was. The Greenholmes remained all day, for the trouble was one to be shared between them. Alfred behaved very well; but he seemed to suffer more annoyance than grief, and that is decidedly the more easy to bear. And late in the afternoon a telegram came for Mr. Greenholme. It contained only these words: “Do not be anxious. All is well. Mary.” It wrought instantly a change in the feelings of the household; for anger and vexation took the place of grief and anxiety. “It is too bad of Mary,” everybody said; and hot words of blame were spoken freely. Nobody took her part very courageously. Even Margaret admitted that her friend had been, at the very least, guilty of great cowardice, while Miss Copeland abused her in unmeasured terms; and only Tom Whitwell pleaded that they would give her time to explain before they judged and condemned her. It had been arranged that Mr. Dallington should drive his cousin home. He had come, as he thought, to the wedding, and seeing that there was to be none, he thought they should leave early. Dr. Stapleton was to have taken Miss Miller to Darentdale, but as he had not returned she accepted Dallington’s invitation, and accompanied him and Miss Whitwell. “I told you that I believed the wedding would not take place, did I not, John?” asked the latter, as soon as they had started. “Yes, you did, Tom; but I consider that your friend has disgraced her womanhood in acting as she has done. If I were Greenholme I would never forgive her.” “I am sure she will never ask him,” said Tom. “But she has been a great coward through it all.” “She ought never to have allowed herself to be engaged to him,” said Margaret; “but having done so she ought to have gone through with it.” “And been miserable for ever after,” added Tom. And then the clouds cleared away; for why should three healthy happy young people be sad because one had been stupid? Late in the evening Dr. Stapleton called at Mr. Wythburn’s to make inquiries. He only stayed a few minutes; and when he left the vicar went with him. They parted after ten minutes’ walk, and as they did so Mr. Sherborne looked straight into the doctor’s eyes, and suddenly asked him a question. “Stapleton, do you know where Miss Wythburn is?” The doctor started violently, and the colour first came into his face, and then left him pale. “I? No, indeed!” he exclaimed. “I wish to God I did!”