"Then I will, my dear, for it's only another reason why you should not go and do what you are thinking about doing," cried the old woman angrily. "I don't care, you may send me away if you like, but I shall have done my duty by you, and I shan't have that on my mind." "Have the goodness to remember what you are, Denton," said Gertrude, speaking coldly, and turning very pale. "Yes, miss, only your poor old servant, but I can't see you going headlong to destruction without trying to stop you. I say you oughtn't to marry a gentleman who can't keep from the drink, and goes out spending the night after everybody else has gone to bed." "What do you mean, Denton?" "That we've been wherritting ourselves about him all the morning, and he's never been to bed all night." "Denton!" "Well, miss, come up and look. The bed's just as I turned it down, and the pillows all of a puff." "That will do," said Gertrude gravely. "Your master is not bound to consult anybody if he chooses to go out." "No, miss." "Mrs Hampton, shall we go into the drawing-room?" said Gertrude quietly, "or would you like a walk?" "I think we will stay in, my dear," was the reply; and they went into the drawing-room, where after closing the door they stood looking in each other's eyes. "Gertie," said Mrs Hampton at last, and she took her young companion's hand. "No, no," said Gertrude, shrinking. "I was not going to preach, my dear--only help," said Mrs Hampton, smiling cheerfully. "Are you thinking what I am?" "I feel that I must be," cried Gertrude. "You think that George has repented of what he said to Saul Harrington, and has joined him, or followed him to Paris." "Exactly. That is what I do think." "Well," said Gertrude slowly, "he might have told us. Stop," she added quickly, "he must have left a note for us in the study." "Of course," cried Mrs Hampton; and they went quickly into the little library, which the new master had affected as soon as he took possession of the place. A particular odour of spirits and some drug attacked their nostrils as soon as they entered the little room, and their eyes met in an anxious look, but only to be averted as each sought for a letter. "No," said Gertrude sadly, "he has not written." "It was a sudden thought, my dear, and we shall have one, or a telegram, before long. He is sure to send." "He is sure to send," said Gertrude involuntarily, as a curious chill ran through her, and she turned ghastly pale; for at that moment there came the long, low howl of a dog as if from a great distance, though they felt and knew that it was the faint cry of the wounded beast, and from close at hand--the mournfully strange howl uttered by a dog when it displays that mysterious knowledge of impending or neighbouring death. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. KITCHEN OPINIONS.