Huntington responded promptly to the summons when it reached him, wondering what the occasion might be. Marian's explanation of Hamlen's disappearance the night before had been so diplomatic that he had accepted it, so the real story was a complete surprise. He listened intently as she told him everything, sparing herself in no degree, anxious only to receive from him some assurance that her fears were unwarranted. "You should have told me sooner," was the only criticism Huntington made, after learning the details. "I was completely dazed," Marian explained helplessly. "This awful thought only came to me in the early morning. You don't think it too late! Don't tell me that!" "It is useless to speculate," he answered gravely. "Knowing Hamlen as we do, and knowing how high his sense of honor, the next step seems inevitable. He will consider that he has sinned against the woman he loves, and will demand of himself an expiation beyond what he would exact from any one else. I shall do my best to find him. Let us hope it will be in time." "Couldn't I go with you?--No, of course I couldn't,--but how can I endure it until I know? What can I do to help?" Huntington had risen, ready to take his motor-car which had been summoned when first he learned the facts. There was no excitement in his manner, but an alert readiness to undertake his duty with the least possible delay. As Mrs. Thatcher asked the question a sternness seemed to come into his face, but his voice was kindly as he replied. "Whatever you tell the others," he said with decision, "Merry must know the whole truth. There is another tragedy going on in that little girl's soul which needs a mother's care. That is where you can help.--I shall telephone you as soon as I have news." As the crunching of the wheels on the gravel road died away Mrs. Thatcher rose and went to her daughter's room. Never before had she so promptly followed another's suggestion, but at that moment she felt an aversion to her own judgment, and welcomed the opportunity to follow rather than to lead. * * * * * "All this mystery is getting on my nerves," Edith remarked to Cosden as they sauntered out onto the piazza after a later breakfast. "Mr. Hamlen, after seeming perfectly rational with us in the _bosquet_ yesterday, rushes into the house, packs his belongings, and disappears without saying 'good-bye' to any one. Marian, also rational when we saw her yesterday, becomes invisible to the naked eye, and sends word she has a headache--the first I've ever known her to have. This morning she is down to breakfast before any one of us is up except Mr. Huntington, who by a strange coincidence also craves an early breakfast for the first time on record. Marian has gone up-stairs again, and our friend Monty has motored off to Heaven knows where. Now then, what's the answer?"