But while he gave her ample credit for resolution and energy, he did not make allowance for the sensitive pride which had been crushed to the earth by the cruel blow which had been dealt her.  He did not stop to consider that it would never allow her to force herself upon him as an unloved and rejected wife when she believed a more fortunate rival stood in her way.

But he found nothing in any of the booking offices of the different steamers to tell him that Virgie had sailed, or was intending to sail, even though he haunted them daily for three or four weeks.

Almost discouraged at the end of that time, he cabled to his sister the following message: 

  “I have missed my wife—­perhaps crossed her path. 
  If she arrives at Heathdale, let me know at once.”

Lady Linton was somewhat startled upon receiving this message, for it told her that her brother had some reason for thinking that Virgie might be on her way to Heathdale, and, remembering Mrs. Farnum’s account of her threats to claim her position, she began to fear that she had underrated the girl’s spirit, and that she might make her appearance at any moment and demand to be received as the mistress of the house.

This, of course, would make matters rather complicated and awkward; but, as long as her brother was not at home, she trusted to her own craft to deal with her and make her only too glad to give Heathdale a wide berth should she show herself there.

After cabling, Sir William went again to the Pacific coast, in the hope of finding Chi Lu.  He spent several weeks in San Francisco, thinking perhaps those he sought might hope to lose themselves there among the multitude.

He thought right for once, had he but known it, and had he possessed a little more patience, been a trifle less restless and feverish in his search, he might have succeeded in his quest.

But he was so wretched; so worn and discouraged with his constant and fruitless seeking, that he could not remain in one place long at a time, and so wandered here and there, until, months having elapsed, he had been in nearly every State in the Union, reaping only disappointment and anguish of spirit.

Then there came again a summons for him to go home—­his mother had been stricken with another shock, and, with a heavy heart, a feeling as if all the world were against him and his whole life ruined, he went back to his desolate home and the sick one there.

Lady Heath only lived a few days after the second return of her son.  He reached Heathdale just in season to see the sands of her life run out and to close her eyes in their last long sleep; then they laid her in the family vault, and Sir William felt as if he had nothing now to bind him to his home.

“I cannot stay here—­I must go away again he said one day, in despair, to his sister, and her heart sank at his words.

“Well, I hope you are not going to America again, whatever you do,” she remarked, with some unpatience.