The first dinner bell had rung; but neither of the anxious watchers had even heard it.

The groom of the chambers came in and lighted the gas in the drawing-rooms, and retired in silence.

Still the watchers sat waiting in a state of intense, repressed excitement.

The second dinner bell rang.  And almost immediately the butler appeared at the door, and announced, with his formula: 

“My lady is served,” and then: 

“Will your grace join me at dinner?” courteously inquired Lady Belgrade, thinking at the same time of the unparalleled circumstance of the bridegroom dining without his bride upon his wedding day—­“Will your grace join me at dinner?” she repeated, perceiving that he had not heard, or at least had not answered her question.

“I beg pardon.  Pray, excuse me, your ladyship.  I am really not equal—­”

“I see!  I see!  Nor am I equal to going through what, at best, would be a mere form,” said her ladyship.  Then turning toward the waiting butler, she said—­“Remove the service, Sillery.  We shall not dine to-day.”

The man bowed and withdrew.

And the two watchers, whose anxiety was fast growing into insupportable anguish, waited still, for still, as yet, they could do nothing else but wait and control themselves.

“Your grace has missed the last train,” said Lady Belgrade, at length, as the little cuckoo clock on the mantel shelf struck ten.

“Yes the night express leaves London Bridge station for Dover at ten-thirty, and it is a full hour’s drive from Kensington,” replied the duke.

And both secretly thanked fortune that the wedding guests had all departed before the bride’s mysterious absence from the house at such a time had become known; and they knew not but that “the happy pair had left by the tidal train for Dover, en route for their continental tour,”—­as per wedding programme.  And both silently hoped that the household servants would not talk.

The time crept wearily on.  The clock struck eleven.

“I cannot endure this frightful suspense one moment longer!  I never heard of such a case in all the days of my life!  A bride to vanish away on her bridal day!  Duke of Hereward you are her husband!  WHAT IS TO BE DONE?” exclaimed Lady Belgrade, starting up from her seat and giving full sway to all the repressed excitement of the last few hours.

“My dear lady,” said the duke, controlling his own emotions by a strong effort of will, and speaking with a calmness he did not feel—­“My dear lady, the first thing you should do, should be to command yourself.  Listen to me, dear Lady Belgrade.  I have waited here in constrained quietness, hoping for our Salome’s return from moment to moment, and fearing to expose her to gossip by any indiscreet haste in seeking her abroad.  But I can wait no longer.  I must commence the search abroad at once.  I shall go immediately to a skillful