The instant he was gone I ran to the window to see him mount his dog-cart and disappear in the wet night. Then I came back to Lady O'Brien's side. She had sunk into her chair, and the sparkle and fire were gone out of her face. "Ah," she said, drawing a long breath, "if I only had the flogging of that man! And to think how helpless we are, an old woman and two girls, my dear. And time was when twenty fine fellows would have been ready to flog him for me!" "I suppose he really knows nothing of his grandson?" "I suppose not. After all, as he says, the boy is not an infant. He must have grown sick of the place and gone away. I know his life there was insupportable, though Sir Rupert never actually showed him the door." "What are we to say to Esther?" "That is what is troubling me." "We hardly know Harry De Lacy. Is it possible he could care less than she does, and knowing his own poverty, and that Sir Rupert would never consent, has given her up and gone away?" She shook her head. "Esther would say it was not possible. I only know him through her love. For myself, I saw a handsome and gentle boy, a gentleman, and with the tastes and habits of one. I could say as much for fifty lads of my acquaintance." "You don't think the gentleness could imply weakness?" "Ah! that I cannot answer for. Esther will never believe that he could go away and forget her. Ah, my poor child! I dread to tell her that we have heard nothing. If no word of him comes I don't know what she will do." "There is nothing left for us to do but wait," I said sadly. "I suppose not," she said, "especially as there was no formal engagement between them. Poor child! if she had trusted me earlier, all this might have been averted. We cannot go out into the world, you and I, Hilda, and track him down." "No," I assented, "but we will hope. You have done what you could, brave little fairy godmother! We must leave the rest to God." But when we told Esther, she only turned her head away, and said nothing. In her heart of hearts I am sure she said over and over that he was dead, or was kept from coming to her. No matter what happened, she would never believe anything else. CHAPTER XXV. "WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?" That winter was like to be nearly as melancholy as the previous winter, when Pierce was dying slowly. The months passed, and no word came of Esther's lover, and as she had taken our ill news that first day so she took it always, with her face to the wall and in silence.