Mr. Walraven’s reflections were interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Sardonyx.  The lawyer bowed; his employer nodded carelessly.

“How do, Sardonyx?  Find a chair.  I’ve got back, you see.  And now, how’s things progressing?”

“Favorably, Mr. Walraven.  All goes well.”

“And madame has gone packing, I hope?”

“Mrs. Walraven left for Yonkers yesterday.  I accompanied her and saw her safely to her new home.”

“How does she take it?”

“In sullen silence.  She doesn’t deign to speak to me; but with her cousin it is quite another matter.  He had the hardihood to call upon her in my presence, and you should have seen her.  By Jove, sir! she flew out at him like a tigress.  Doctor Guy departed without standing on the order of his going, and hasn’t had the courage to try it on since.”

Mr. Walraven smiled grimly.

“That’s as it should be.  Apart, they are harmless; together, they are the devil’s own.  And now, how’s the mother, and how’s Mollie?”

“Your mother is as well as usual, I believe.  As to Miss Dane,” lifting his eyebrows in surprise, “have you not heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Why, that she has gone.”

“Gone!” cried Carl Walraven, “gone again?  What the foul fiend does the girl mean?  Has she been carried off a third time?”

“Oh, dear, no! nothing of that sort.  Miss Dane and Mr. Ingelow departed together late in the afternoon of the same day you left, and neither has since been heard of.”

Mr. Sardonyx made this extraordinary statement with a queer smile just hovering about the corners of his legal mouth.  His employer looked at him sternly.

“See here, Sardonyx,” he said; “none of your insinuations.  Miss Dane is my ward, remember.  You are her jilted lover, I remember.  Therefore, I can make allowances.  But no insinuations.  If Miss Dane and Mr. Ingelow left together, you know as well as I do there was no impropriety in their doing so.”

“Did I say there was, Mr. Walraven?  I mean to insinuate nothing.  I barely state facts, told me by your servants.”

“Did Mollie leave no word where she was going?”

“There was no need; they knew.  This was the way of it:  a ragged urchin came for her in hot haste, told her Miriam was dying, and desired her presence at once, to reveal some secret of vital importance.  Miss Dane departed at once.  Mr. Ingelow chanced to be at the house, and he accompanied her.  Neither of them has returned.”

The face of Carl Walraven turned slowly to a dead, sickly white as he heard the lawyer’s words.  He rose slowly and walked to one of the opposite windows, keeping his back turned to Sardonyx.

“Has there been no letter, no message of any sort since?” he inquired, huskily, after a pause.

“None.  No one in your household knows even where this Miriam resides.  As for Mr. Ingelow, I called twice at the studio since, but each time to find it locked.”