‘My dear friend,’ said Mr Hindes, with the greatest concern, ‘are you ill? Is anything wrong at home? For God’s sake, speak, and put us out of this terrible suspense!’ ‘She’s gone, Hindes! she’s gone!’ gasped Mr Crampton at last. ‘Gone? Who? Not Jenny?’ cried Mrs Hindes. The old man nodded his head. ‘Not dead?’ said Hindes, turning as white as a sheet. ‘No! No! Gone off with that scoundrel Walcheren,’ replied Mr Crampton, who had somewhat recovered himself. ‘Didn’t you tell me that he promised to give up all pretensions to her hand, and to leave off visiting her or writing to her?’ ‘He did, most emphatically!’ said Hindes. ‘I was just telling my wife about it.’ ‘And so did she--so did Jenny,’ continued the father, in a broken voice; ‘and they were both lying to us, sir--both lying! She has left us for him. She writes she is married to him--that it is of no use our attempting any opposition, and we may keep our worthless money for ourselves--and our broken hearts too, I suppose,’ he added, in a lower tone. ‘But it is impossible--there must be some mistake--how did it happen?’ cried Henry Hindes, excitedly. ‘Well, they must have managed to have some communication with each other since Wednesday, for the girl joined him yesterday. My wife is such a fool--God forgive me for calling her by such a name!--that she never exercised the least supervision over the child, and yesterday morning it seems that Jenny said she was going to her dressmaker’s, and they let her set off alone with Brunell. She told him on reaching town--this is the man’s story, remember--to put up the horses, and call for her at the Burtons in Cromwell Road, at five o’clock. He was there to his time, and waited outside for an hour, when a caretaker came to the door and asked him what he was waiting for. On his telling her, she said that no young lady had been there that day--that the family was still out of town, and she didn’t know when they were likely to be home again. On hearing that, Brunell drove to Madame Costello’s, but learned there that Jenny had left directly he drove off in the morning, and had not returned since. A gentleman, her cousin, the woman said, had fetched her away in a cab. The man came back with this story, and you may imagine the night we have had. My wife was sure it was all right, but I knew the end from the beginning.’ ‘Don’t despair, sir, until you are quite sure,’ said Hannah, with ready sympathy. ‘I _am_ sure, Mrs Hindes. We sat up all night, and the first post this morning brought us that.’ He threw down a scribbled note on the table as he spoke, and Hannah picked it up, for her husband seemed too paralysed at the calamity that had overtaken his friends, to be able to do anything. The note ran thus:--