He was half bewildered by what the woman had told him, and his heart beat tumultuously as he stood by the empty hearth, waiting for Ellen Carley’s coming.  It seemed to him as if the girl never would come.  The ticking of an old eight-day clock in the hall had a ghastly sound in the dead silence of the house, and an industrious mouse made itself distinctly heard behind the wainscot.

At last a light rapid footstep came tripping across the hall, and Ellen Carley entered the room.  She was looking paler than when Gilbert had seen her last, and the bright face was very grave.

“For heaven’s sake tell me what this means, Miss Carley,” Gilbert began eagerly.  “Your servant tells me that Mrs. Holbrook has left you—­in some mysterious way, I imagine, from what the woman said.”

“O, sir, I am so glad you have come here; I should have written to you if I had known where to address a letter.  Yes, sir, she has gone—­that dear sweet young creature—­and I fear some harm has come to her.”

The girl burst into tears, and for some minutes could say no more.

“Pray, pray be calm,” Gilbert said gently, “and tell me all you can about this business.  How did Mrs. Holbrook leave this place? and why do you suspect that any harm has befallen her?”

“There is every reason to think so, sir.  Is it like her to leave us without a word of notice, knowing, as she must have known, the unhappiness she would cause to me, who love her so well, by such a step?  She knew how I loved her.  I think she had scarcely a secret from me.”

“If you will only tell me the manner of her departure,” Gilbert said rather impatiently.

“Yes, yes, sir; I am coming to that directly.  She seemed happier after she came back from London, poor dear; and she told me that her grandfather had left her money, and that she was likely to become quite a rich woman.  The thought of this gave her so much pleasure—­not for her own sake, but for her husband’s, whose cares and difficulties would all come to an end now, she told me.  She had been back only a few days, when I left home for a day and a night, to see my aunt—­an old woman and a constant invalid, who lives at Malsham.  I had put off going to her for a long time, for I didn’t care about leaving Mrs. Holbrook; but I had to go at last, my aunt thinking it hard that I couldn’t spare time to spend a day with her, and tidy up her house a bit, and see to the girl that waits upon her, poor helpless thing.  So I started off before noon one day, after telling Mrs. Holbrook where I was going, and when I hoped to be back.  She was in very good spirits that morning, for she expected her husband next day.  ’I have told him nothing about the good fortune that has come to me, Nelly,’ she said; ’I have only written to him, begging him to return as quickly as possible, and he will be here to-morrow by the afternoon express.’  Mr. Holbrook is a great walker, and generally walks from Malsham here, by a shorter way than the high-road,