He left the great gloomy gorgeous house in Cavendish square more than ever convinced of Adela Branston’s affection for his friend, more than ever puzzled by John Saltram’s indifference to so advantageous an alliance.

Within a few days of this visit Gilbert Fenton left London.  He had devoted himself unflinchingly to his business since his return to England, and had so planned and organized his affairs as to be able now to absent himself for some little time from the City.  He was going upon what most men would have called a fool’s errand—­his quest of Marian’s husband; but he was going with a steady purpose in his breast—­a determination never to abandon the search till it should result in success.  He might have to suspend it from time to time, should he determine to continue his commercial career; but the purpose would be nevertheless the ruling influence of his life.

He had but one clue for his guidance in setting out upon this voyage of discovery.  Miss Long had told him that the newly-married couple were to go to some farm-house in Hampshire which had been lent to Mr. Holbrook by a friend.  It was in Hampshire, therefore, that Gilbert resolved to make his first inquiries.  He told himself that success was merely a question of time and patience.  The business of tracing these people, who were not to be found by any public inquiry, would be slow and wearisome no doubt.  He was prepared for that.  He was prepared for a thousand failures and disappointments before he alighted on the one place in which Mr. Holbrook’s name must needs be known, the town or village nearest to the farm-house that had been lent to him.  And even if, after unheard-of trouble and perseverance on his part, he should find the place he wanted, it was quite possible that Marian and her husband would have gone elsewhere, and his quest would have to begin afresh.  But he fancied that he could hardly fail to obtain some information as to their plan of life, if he could find the place where they had stayed after their marriage.

His own scheme of action was simple enough.  He had only to travel from place to place, making careful inquiries at post-offices and in all likely quarters at every stage of his journey.  He went straight to Winchester, having a fancy for the quiet old city and the fair pastoral scenery surrounding it, and thinking that Mr. Holbrook’s borrowed retreat might possibly be in this neighbourhood.  The business proved even slower and more tedious than he had supposed; there were so many farms round about Winchester, so many places which seemed likely enough, and to which he went, only to find that no person of the name of Holbrook had ever been heard of by the inhabitants.