“Perhaps he didn’t get it in time,” suggested Lady Constance.

“Poor Adrien,” said Jasper with apparent reluctance.  “I’m afraid I cannot even allow him that excuse; he had evidently taken away all his correspondence this morning.”

“Oh, it’s of no consequence,” said the girl lightly, though her face was pale, and her eyes shone, as if through a mist of tears.  “We are only going shopping for the ball, and that is dull work for a man.”

“Can I be of any assistance, Miss Penelope?” enquired Mr. Vermont.  “Do let me help; I love shopping!” But this neither of the ladies would allow; and with a parting shot on the subject of Adrien’s whereabouts, Vermont took his leave.

His next move was to Waterloo Station, where he took a train to Hampton; and a little after noon, Jasper Vermont was strolling along the side of the river, smoking his cigar.

Very amiable he looked, and exceedingly interested in the boats, and therefore it was not surprising that the man who let them out on hire readily answered his questions as to the best season of the year, the approximate number of customers, etc., all leading up to the main question, had a boat with a lady and gentleman gone out that day?

“No,” the man said.  “Curiously enough, sir, no boat has gone out to-day with a lady and a gentleman in it, like what you describe.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Vermont.  “It was my mistake.  I thought I saw a gentleman rowing a lady down the river—­rowing very well, too, in a light skiff.”

“Ah!” said the man, puffing a cloud of smoke from his rough clay pipe, “I know who you mean, now; a gentleman—­regular swell, and a lady in blue.  Lor’ bless yer, that ain’t one of mine, that’s a private boat that’s kept up at the Court, I think.  Oh, yes, he’s all right; gone up stream, they have, and a nice day they’ve got.”

This was what Jasper needed; and after strolling about among the boats for a few minutes more he started off along the bank, keeping at such a distance from the stream that, though he could see all who passed in the boats, no one on the river could see him.

The beauty of the day, the shimmer and sparkle of the river, with the soft lap of its waters, the singing of the birds over his head, all had no effect on him.  His dark, beady eyes noted nothing but the boats that passed, none of which, as yet—­though the afternoon was waning fast—­contained Adrien and Lady Merivale.

Yet he knew that he had not missed them, for he had taken his lunch on the balcony of an inn commanding a view of the river, which he had kept under survey from the time he had reached Hampton earlier in the day.

Steadily, with the persistence of a bloodhound tracking its prey, he walked on and on, until he came to a village, or rather a collection of homesteads.  Very small it was, consisting only of an inn, a house, half cottage and half shop, and a few red-tiled cottages wherein the bargemen lived, when they were at home, which was seldom.  In the bright sunlight, the blue sky overhead and the shining river in the foreground, it formed a pretty enough picture.