It was after five when they came back to Mrs. Maitland's dining-room, where the gaslight struggled ineffectually with the fog. They had done everything which, at that hour, could be done. "Oh, when will it ever get light!" Blair said, despairingly. He pushed aside the food Nannie had placed on the table for them, and dropped his face on his arms. He had a sudden passionate longing for his mother; she would have _done_ something! She would have told these people, these dazed, terrified people! what to do. She always knew what to do. For the first time in his life he needed his mother. Robert Ferguson, standing at the window, was staring out at the blind, yellow mist. "As soon as it's light enough, we'll get a boat and go down the river," he said, with heavy significance. "But it is absurd to jump at such a conclusion," Mrs. Richie protested. "You don't know her," Elizabeth's uncle said, briefly. Blair echoed the words. "No; you don't know her." "All the same, I don't believe it!" Mrs. Richie said, emphatically. "For one thing, Blair says that her comb and brush are not on her bureau. A girl doesn't take her toilet things with her when she goes out to--" "Elizabeth might," Mr. Ferguson said. Blair, looking up, broke out: "Oh, that money! It's that that has made all the trouble. Why did I say I wouldn't give it up? I'd throw it into the fire, if it would bring her back to me!" Mrs. Richie was silent. Her face was tense with anxiety, but it was not the same anxiety that plowed the other faces. "Did you go to the depot?" she said. "Perhaps she took the night train. The ticket-agent might have seen her." "But why should she take a night train?" Blair said; "where would she go?" "Why should she do a great many things she has done?" Mrs. Richie parried; and added, softly, "I want to speak to you, Blair; come into the parlor for a minute." When they were alone, she said,--her eyes avoiding his; "I have an idea that she has gone to Philadelphia. To see me." "You? But you are here!" "Yes; but perhaps she thought I went home yesterday; you thought so." Blair grasped at a straw of hope. "I will telegraph--" "No; that would be of no use. The servants couldn't answer it; and--and there is no one else there. I will take the morning express, and telegraph you as soon as I get home." "But I can't wait all day!" he said; "I will wire--" he paused; it struck him like a blow that there was only one person to whom to wire. The blood rushed to his face. "You think that she has gone to him?" "I think she has gone to me," she told him, coldly. "What more natural? I am an old friend, and she was angry with you." "Yes; she was, but--" "As for my son," said Mrs. Richie, "he is not at home; but I assure you,"--she stumbled a little over this; "I assure you that if he were he would have no desire to see your wife."