Part 28 (2/2)

”Whistle for a hansom for me, please, Susan.”

Susan did so; and half an hour afterward Hilda was making inquiries at Rivers' chambers with regard to his whereabouts. The clerks there could give her no definite information. Mr. Rivers had gone out with a little lady soon after twelve o'clock, and had told them not to expect him back that day.

”I shall find Judy at Philippa Terrace when I go home,” thought Mrs.

Quentyns. ”It was thoughtless of her not to tell me how long she would be out--it was wonderfully unlike her. Still, of course, she will be at home now.”

But when Hilda returned no Judy was there to greet her; but her husband's face was seen looking somewhat impatiently out at the drawing-room window. He came at once to help his wife out of the cab, and entered the house with her.

”Where were you?” he asked. ”It is nearly time for dinner.”

”I won't be a moment getting dressed, Jasper; but--but--I am anxious about Judy.”

Quentyns had meant to be specially nice and kind to Hilda after his evening's pleasure, but he felt it impossible now to keep the glib, sarcastic words back.

”I might have known when I saw that fretful look on your face, that Judy was the cause. Now, what is her latest transgression?”

”Oh, there is a telegraph-boy,” said Hilda eagerly. ”What--what--oh, _is_ there anything wrong?”

She rushed to the hall-door herself, before Jasper could prevent her.

Susan, coming into the hall to answer the imperative double knock, was sent back to the kitchen regions, in a cross voice, by her master.

”Really, Hilda,” began Quentyns, ”your impetuosity is most undignified.

I must say that these kinds of scenes are----Now, what is the matter, my love--tears again. A coming home of this sort is not the most cheerful sort of thing, you must allow.”

”Oh, Jasper, Jasper, I'm not even listening to you,” said poor Hilda.

”What can be the matter? what can be wrong? Here's a telegram from Mr.

Rivers. He says--see what he says.

”'Little Staunton Rectory. Have brought Judy home. Will call and see you soon after ten this evening. Rivers.'”

”Rivers!” repeated Jasper.

His voice grew thoughtful; he did not like Rivers, of all men, to be mixed up in his domestic affairs. Rivers, at least, must keep him on a pedestal, and know nothing of his weaknesses--of that infirmity of temper which he struggled against, and yet, in Judy's presence, could not conquer. He forgot all about Judy herself in his wonder as to how Rivers had got mixed up in the matter.

Hilda had seated herself on the sofa, and still holding the open telegram in her hand, was trying furtively to wipe away her fast-falling tears.

”I wish you'd stop crying, Hilda,” said her husband. ”There's nothing to alarm you in this telegram--nothing whatever. If Judy is with a man like Tom Rivers, she's as safe as child can be.”

”But she has gone home, Jasper; she has gone home to the Rectory, without even telling me.”

”Well, my dear, it's impossible for me to explain away the vagaries of that most eccentric child. I presume, however, that Rivers has a key to the mystery, and as he says he will call here after ten o'clock, we shall know all about it then. No amount of discussion can explain it in advance. So, Hilda, perhaps you will go upstairs and get ready for dinner. I'm frightfully hungry.”

Hilda rose wearily and left the room at once.

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