“But there must surely be some one in the place who knows where she has gone!” exclaimed Gilbert.

“I think not.  The landlord of Hazel Cottage does not know.  He is my landlord also, and I was asking him about Miss Nowell when I paid my rent the other day.  He said he supposed she had gone away to be married.  That has been the general impression, in fact, at Lidford.  People made sure that Miss Nowell had left to be married to you.”

“I have only just returned from Australia.  I have come back to fulfil my engagement to Miss Nowell.  Can you suggest no one from whom I am likely to obtain information?”

“There is the family at the Rectory; they knew her very well, and were extremely kind to her after her uncle’s death.  It might be worth your while to call upon Mr. Marchant.”

“Yes, I will call,” Gilbert answered; “thanks for the suggestion.”

He wished Miss Dodd good-afternoon, and left her standing at the gate of her little garden, watching him with profound interest as he walked away towards the village.  There was a pleasing mystery in the affair, to the mind of Miss Dodd.

Gilbert Fenton went at once to the Rectory, although it was now past seven o’clock.  He had met Mr. and Mrs. Marchant several times, and had visited them with the Listers.

The Rector was at home, sitting over his solitary glass of port by the open window of his snug dining-room, looking lazily out at a group of sons and daughters playing croquet on the lawn.  He was surprised to see Mr. Fenton, but welcomed him with much cordiality.

“I have come to you full of care, Mr. Marchant,” Gilbert began; “and the pressing nature of my business must excuse the lateness of my visit.”

“There is no occasion for any excuse.  I am very glad to see you at this time.  Pray help yourself to some wine, there are clean glasses near you; and take some of those strawberries, on which my wife prides herself amazingly.  People who live in the country all their days are obliged to give their minds to horticulture.  And now, what is this care of yours, Mr. Fenton?  Nothing very serious, I hope.”

“It is very serious to me at present.  I think you know that I am engaged to Miss Nowell.”

“Perfectly.  I had imagined until this moment that you and she were married.  When she left Lidford, I concluded that she had gone to stay with friends of yours, and that the marriage would, in all probability, take place at an early period, without any strict observance of etiquette as to her mourning for her uncle.  It was natural that we should think this, knowing her solitary position.”

“Then you do not know where she went on leaving this place?”

“Not in the faintest degree.  Her departure was altogether unexpected by us.  My wife and daughters called upon her two or three times after the Captain’s death, and were even anxious that she should come here to stay for a short time; but she would not do that.  She seemed grateful, and touched by their anxiety about her, but they could not bring her to talk of her future.”