Evening came on, however, and no sign of return. The parcel, with Zorilda's note, which had escaped observation, was now brought to Lady Marchdale, who was much surprised, but though she summoned all the household, she could learn no tidings whatsoever of the travellers. Curiosity was in fact the only motive for her inquiries, as the event of Zorilda's voluntary flight gave her inexpressible delight. All care and responsibility were now at an end. She had taken her affairs into her own hands, and Lady Marchdale not only felt relieved from all anxiety how to dispose of her, but might expatiate on the various surmises which she chose to indulge, so unfavourable to female modesty, youthful timidity, natural affection, gratitude, and the like, as to strengthen her arguments upon the impropriety of Lord Hautonville's wasting another thought upon such a graceless adventurer. "And Rachel too; no doubt _she_ is in the secret. A pretty piece of work, truly, but they are gone upon their own inventions, which I am afraid are not of the best, and so I can do no more than leave them to their fate." The old butler, to whom these words were principally addressed, shook his head, and replied: "My lady, I could bear any thing but to hear Miss Zoé suspected of evil doings. She is an angel on earth, wherever she is gone, and if all the world were as good as she, there would be no need of any other heaven." "Shut the door," answered Lady Marchdale; "I did not ask your opinion." Bernard retired, and all the servants mingled tears and wailing for the loss of their favourite, while every effort to trace Zorilda was fruitless. The dairy-maid, who was very superstitious, almost persuaded the rest at length, that the fairies who she knew to a certainty were often busy in conveying cows secretly from their pastures, had some hand in the elopement of Miss Zoé. "Any way, she is gone upon nothing harmful," was the unanimous decision below stairs. As to Rachel, every body knew that she was to leave the service, and no one was puzzled at her disappearance. Several days were spent in discussions and controversy before the earl and his son returned to Henbury. Lord Hautonville had scarcely seen his mother before he flew off to Zorilda's apartment. The door was open. He went in, and called. From thence he ran down stairs, and out into the shrubberies, not waiting to ask a question of any one; but seeking her through all the places which were familiar to remembrance, and not a little indignant at her absence in the moment of his arrival. The gardener at last appeared, and stunned him by the intelligence that Zorilda had been missing for several days.