She stood looking at the man dumbly, paralyzed by apprehension. Where could Allan be? what could he have done with himself? His letter had asked her to meet him in that house. He had arrived at the station twenty-four hours before he could expect her; he had sent home his luggage, and had walked out of the station in the most casual manner, saying that he was going home. Was it credible that he would go to anybody else's house, straight from the station, luggageless, newly landed after a long sea-voyage? No man in his senses would so act. Yet there was but one course for an anxious mother to take, and Lady Emily returned to the fly, and ordered the man to drive to Marsh House. Allan might have gone straight to Suzette. Who could tell what effect the news of her approaching marriage might have upon his mind? His letter told his mother that he still hoped; and the change from hope to despair would be crushing. He might have hurried away from the scene of his disappointment, careless how or where he went, so long as he got himself far away from the place associated with his fickle sweetheart. Suzette was at home, and received Lady Emily kindly, forgetting all that had gone before in her compassion for the mother's distress. Allan had called at Marsh House on the previous evening during Suzette's absence. He had been told that she was at the Manor, and the servant had understood him to say that he was going on to the Manor. He had seemed put out at hearing where she was, the soldier servant had told his young mistress. "And were you not at the Manor when he called?" Lady Emily asked. "No; I left before lunch; but instead of coming home, where I was not expected, I spent the afternoon at the Vicarage and on the golf-ground with Bessie Edgefield." "And Mr. Wornock was with you most of the time, I suppose?" "Not any of the time." "Is he away, then?" "No. If you must know the truth, we had--well, I can hardly say, we had quarrelled; but Geoffrey had been very disagreeable, and I was glad to leave him to himself for the afternoon." "You are good friends again now, no doubt?" "We have not seen each other since. Geoffrey has gone away, without letting any one know where he was going, and his poor mother is anxious and unhappy about him. He is so impetuous--so erratic." "And you, his sweetheart, are still more anxious, no doubt?" "I am anxious chiefly for his poor mother's sake. She is too easily frightened." "Can they have gone away together, anywhere?" said Lady Emily. "Together--Allan and Geoffrey!" exclaimed Suzette. "No, I don't think they would do that." "Why not? They were together for two years in Africa."