Fully persuaded that this must be the case, the two dames resumed their conversation, though in a more subdued key. They were not nervous or easily frightened by the electrical influences which had so seriously disturbed the young girls, and, Lady Quaintree having coolly drawn the lace curtains across the windows, they sat quite contentedly. It at length occurred to them as odd that neither Lois Turquand nor Blanche should present herself. Lady Quaintree rang again. “Where is Miss Turquand?--where is Miss Dormer?” she inquired of the domestic who appeared. “I don’t know, my lady,” replied the man. “Where is my maid?” “I don’t know, my lady.” “Find her, then, and tell her to request the young ladies to come here directly.” Presently the fellow came back, with the alarming information that neither the young ladies nor Justine were to be found. “Good heavens!” cried her ladyship, unable to credit her ears. “Not to be found? Impossible! Nonsense! They _must_ be found! Why, my maid left me a short time since to seek for Miss Turquand and Miss Dormer. Oh! this is absurd!” The man departed again on a search that proved useless. He presented himself again, fearfully, to tell her ladyship so. The truth about Justine was that, recollecting her message suddenly, she had flown to Miss Turquand’s room, and then to all the probable and even improbable places where the young ladies might be found; but, of course, without coming on any trace of the missing ones. Thoroughly alarmed, marveling what had become of them, and not daring to go back to her mistress, she had darted wildly all over the house, making inquiries of everybody she met. Several of the domestics had seen the young ladies go out, but no one had seen them return. Forgetful, in her sore affright, of her nervous tremors in a storm, Justine had rushed into the grounds, armed with a big umbrella snatched up in passing through the entrance-hall. Thus her otherwise unaccountable disappearance was to be explained. In a short time the entire household was astir, alarmed by the discovery that the young ladies were not within the Hall. If not there, where were they? Of necessity, they must be out in the grounds, perhaps in the porter’s lodge. One servant ran down to the lodge, only to bring back word that the young ladies had never been there. Others scattered themselves over the gardens, seeking in the conservatories and graperies, in the plantations, in every imaginable place. It was the gardener who came to the horrifying conclusion that the girls had ventured on the lake in the flimsy boat, and had been capsized. He found Justine wandering near the borders of the water in a state of distraction. She could not tell that the boat had been safely moored that morning and in the early afternoon, but she had paused here.