The Fraylings had decided to postpone all further festivities till the
bride and bridegroom's return, so that the wedding guests had gone, and
the house looked as drearily commonplace as any other in the street when
the hansom pulled up a little short of the door for Major Colquhoun to
alight.
The servant who answered his ring made no pretense of concealing his
astonishment when he saw who it was, but Major Colquhoun's manner
effectually checked any expression of it. He was not the kind of a man
whom a servant would ever have dared to express any sympathy with, however
obviously things might have gone wrong. But there was nothing in Major
Colquhoun's appearance at that moment to show that anything had gone
wrong, except his return when he should have been off on his wedding
journey. There was probably a certain amount of assumption in his apparent
indifference. He had always cultivated an inscrutable bearing, as being
"the thing" in his set, so that it was easy for him now to appear to be
cooler and more collected than he was. His attitude, however, was largely
due to a want of proper healthy feeling, for he was a vice-worn man, with
small capacity left for any great emotion.
He walked into the hall and hung up his hat.
"Is Mr. Frayling alone?" he said.
"Yes, sir--with Mrs. Frayling--and the family--upstairs in the drawing
room," the man stammered.
"Ask him to see me down here, please. Say a gentleman." He stepped to a
mirror as he spoke and carefully twisted the ends of his blond moustache.
"Very good, sir," said the servant.
Major Colquhoun walked into the library in the same deliberate way, and
turned up the gas. Mr. Frayling came hurrying down, fat and fussy, and
puffing a little, but cheerfully rubicund upon the success of the day's
proceedings, and apprehending nothing untoward. When he saw his son-in-law
he opened his eyes, stopped short, turned pale, and gasped.
"Is Evadne here?" Major Colquhoun asked quietly.
"Here? No! What should she be doing here? What has happened?" Mr. Frayling
exclaimed aghast.
"That is just what I don't rightly know myself if she is not here," Major
Colquhoun replied, the quiet demeanour he had assumed contrasting
favourably with his father-in-law's fuss and fume.
"Why have you left her? What are you doing here? Explain," Mr. Frayling
demanded almost angrily.
Major Colquhoun related the little he knew, and Mr. Frayling plumped down
into a chair to listen, and bounced up again, when all was said, to speak.
"Let me send for her mother," he began, showing at once where, in an
emergency, he felt that his strength lay. "No, though, I'd better go
myself and prepare her," he added on second thought. "We mustn't make a
fuss--with all the servants about too. They would talk." And then he
fussed off himself, with agitation evident in every step.
Something like a smile disturbed Major Colquhoun's calm countenance for a
moment, and then he stood, twisting the ends of his fair moustache slowly
with his left hand, and gazing into the fire, which shone reflected in his
steely blue eyes, making them glitter like pale sapphires, coldly, while
he waited.
Mr. Frayling returned with his wife almost immediately. The latter had had
her handkerchief in her hand all day, but she put it in her pocket now.
Major Colquhoun had to repeat his story.
"Did you look for her in the waiting rooms?" Mrs. Frayling asked.
"No."
"She may be there waiting for you at this very moment."
It was a practical suggestion.
"But the porter said he saw her get into a hansom," Major Colquhoun
objected.
"He said he saw a young lady in gray get into a hansom, I understood you
to say," Mrs. Frayling corrected him. "A young lady in gray is not
necessarily Evadne. There might be a dozen young ladies in gray in such a
crowd."
"There might, yes," Mr. Frayling agreed.
"And the proof that it was not Evadne is that she is not here," her mother
proceeded. "If she had been seen getting into a hansom it could only have
been to come here."
"A hansom might break down on the way," said Major Colquhoun, entertaining
the idea for a moment.
"That is not impossible," Mr. Frayling decided.
"But why should she come here?" Major Colquhoun slowly pursued, looking
hard at his parents-in-law. "Had she any objection to marrying me? Was she
overpersuaded into it?"
"Oh, _no_!" Mrs. Frayling exclaimed emphatically. "How _can_ you
suppose such a thing? We should never have _dreamed_ of influencing
the dear child in such a matter. If there were ever a case of love at
first sight it was one. Why, her first words on awaking this morning, were:
'Oh, mother! I _am_ so happy!' and that doesn't sound like being
overpersuaded!"
"Then what, in God's name, is the explanation of all this?" Major
Colquhoun exclaimed, showing some natural emotion for the first time.
"That is it," said Mr. Frayling energetically. "There must be some
explanation."
"Heaven grant that the dear child has not been entrapped in some way and
carried off, and robbed, and murdered, or something _dreadful_," Mrs.
Frayling cried, giving way to the strain all at once, and wringing her
hands.
Then they looked at each other, and the period of speculation was followed
by a momentary interregnum of silence, which would in due course be
succeeded by a desire to act, to do something, if nothing happened in the
meantime. Something did happen, however. The door bell rang violently.
They looked up and listened. The hall door was opened. Footsteps
approached, paused outside the library, and then the butler entered, and
handed Mr. Frayling a telegram on a silver salver.
"Is there any answer, sir?" he asked.
Mr. Frayling opened it with trembling hands and read it. "No; no answer,"
he said.
The butler looked at them all as if they interested him, and withdrew.
"Well," cried Mrs. Frayling, her patience exhausted. "Is it from her?"
"Yes," Mr. Frayling replied, "It was handed in at the General Post Office
at--"
"The General Post Office!" Major Colquhoun ejaculated. "What on earth took
her there?"
"The hansom, you know," said Mrs. Frayling. "Oh, dear"--to her
husband--"_do_ read it."
"Well, I'm going to, if you'll let me," he answered irritably, but
delaying, nevertheless, to mutter something irrelevant about women's
tongues. Then he read: "'Don't be anxious about me. Have received
information about Major C.'s character and past life which does not
satisfy me at all, and am going now to make further inquiries. Will
write.'"
"Information about my character and past life!" exclaimed Major Colquhoun.
"Why, what is wrong with my character? What have I done?"
"Oh, the child is mad! she must be mad!" Mrs. Frayling ejaculated.
Mr. Frayling fumed up and down the room in evident perturbation. He had
not a single phrase ready for such an occasion, nor the power to form one,
and was consequently compelled to employ quite simple language.
"You had better make inquiries at the post office," he said to Major
Colquhoun, "and try and trace her. You must follow her and bring her back
at once, if possible."
"Not I, indeed," was Major Colquhoun's most unexpected rejoinder; "I shall
not give myself any trouble on her account; she may go."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't say that, George!" Mrs. Frayling exclaimed.
"You _do_ love her, and she loves _you_; I _know_ she does. Some
_dreadful_ mischief-making person has come between you. But wait, _do_
wait, until you know more. It will all come right in the end. I am _sure_
it will."
Major Colquhoun compressed his lips and looked sullenly into the fire.