"Don't make me sick if you don't mind!" said Sir Eustace. "Look here, my friend! We shall be late if we don't go. You can't spend long with Isabel, if you are to turn up in time for this precious concert. Hullo! What's the matter?"

The door of the smoking-room had burst suddenly open, and Colonel de Vigne, very red in the face and as agitated as his pomposity would allow, stood glaring at them.

"So you are here!" he exclaimed, his tone an odd blend of relief and anxiety.

"Do you mean me?" said Sir Eustace, with a touch of haughtiness.

"Yes, sir, you! I was looking for you," explained the Colonel, pulling himself together. "I thought perhaps you might be able to give me some idea as to the whereabouts of my young charge, Miss Bathurst. She is missing."

Sir Eustace raised his black brows. "What should I know about her whereabouts?" he said.

Scott broke in quickly. "I saw her in the verandah this afternoon with your daughter."

"I know. She was there." The Colonel spoke with brevity. "Rose left her there talking to your sister. No one seems to have seen her since. I thought she might have been with Sir Eustace. I see I was mistaken. I apologize. But where the devil can she be?"

Sir Eustace raised his shoulders. "She was certainly not talking to my sister," he remarked. "She has kept her room to-day. Miss Bathurst is probably in her own room dressing for dinner."

"That's just where she isn't!" exploded the Colonel. "I missed her at tea-time but thought she must be out. Now her brother tells me that he has been all over the place and can't find her. I suppose she can't be upstairs with your sister?" He turned to Scott.

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"I'll go and see," Scott said. "She may be--though I doubt it. My sister was not so well, and so stayed in bed to-day."

He moved towards the stairs with the words; but ere he reached them there came the sound of a sudden commotion on the corridor above, and a wailing voice made itself heard.

"Miss Isabel! Miss Isabel! Wherever are you, mavourneen? Ah, what'll I do at all? Miss Isabel's gone!"

Old Biddy in her huge white apron and mob cap appeared at the top of the staircase and came hobbling down with skinny hands extended.

"Ah, Master Scott--Master Scott--may the saints help us! She's gone! She's gone! And meself sleeping like a hog the whole afternoon through! I'll never forgive meself, Master Scott,--never, never! Oh, what'll I do? I pray the Almighty will take my life before any harm comes to her!"




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