Poor child! She did not know her little feet were swiftly and surely bearing her in an exactly opposite direction.
IV
“As a White Dove”
It was not until at least two hours after Lettice’s departure with Captain McCormack that her absence was discovered. If Miss Lilla McCormack had been a veritable prophetess or a professional clairvoyante she could not have more accurately described the state of consternation that ensued at Lochiel, and the line of conduct each individual chose to adopt.
The Misses Tremarten had retired to the dressing-room that Lord Lochiel had provided for their comfort at five o’clock. Their maid, who also acted as Lettice’s for the day, was to be dismissed at six to wait on the young lady, and it was not until she returned with the alarming disclosure that Miss Lettice’s room was vacant that any inquiry was made. Then it was that Ellis (Captain McCormack’s man), when he saw the maid running hither and thither, asking everyone if they knew where her young lady was to be found, came forward and made his statement.
“Captain McCormack desired his compliments to Miss Tremarten, and he had driven Miss Lettice Tremarten over to Ingleside that afternoon.” Then the man, having sent this message up to the ladies, made his escape as rapidly as possible, returning to Ingleside, there to carry out Captain McCormack’s further orders.
The maid went up to her mistress with the message, and, as Lilla had prophesied, Aunt Judith went into hysterics immediately, thereby considerably adding to Aunt Rosamond’s distress and perplexity.
“If you would only keep quiet, Judith,” she said, when the sobbing began to subside a little, “I could think what we had better do.”
“Do!” said the emotional lady in her highest key, “send for Lord Lochiel, send for lady Elizabeth Mackreth” (this was Lord Lochiel’s half-sister, who was acting hostess for the time being), “telegraph to Owen, telegraph—”
“Hush, Judith, for Heaven’s sake don’t make any more noise. Do you think I want everyone in the house to know of my niece’s follies and indiscretions? Here, Matthews” (this to her maid), “go to Lady Elizabeth’s maid and tell her to say to her mistress that the Misses Tremarten (all three, mind) are a little fatigued and beg to be excused from dinner, but they will join the dance in the course of the evening. Then come back to me.”
The maid took her message, and came back bringing Lady Elizabeth’s regrets, etc.
“Now,” said Aunt Rosamond, “go down to Williams” (this was the coachman who had driven them to Lochiel from Rosneath) “and tell him to go at once to Ingleside, where Miss Lettice has been spending the afternoon with Miss McCormack, and tell him to wait for her and bring her back as quickly as possible.”
So the maid went and despatched the man, and Aunt Rosamond employed the two hours and a half occupied in his going and returning by endeavouring to soothe her sister’s nerves and to account satisfactorily to herself for her niece’s absence.
“It is only her utter ignorance that makes her transgress in this way,” she argued. “If she had had a mother she would have learnt all these matters with her alphabet. It all comes from the eccentricities of her education. No doubt that fast, strong-minded young woman” (meaning Lilla) “sent her brother over to fetch her on a sudden freak. They have forgotten how the time has passed while they have been gossiping and flirting, and will be thankful enough when Williams arrives to help them over the difficulty of getting home.”
This was all very plausible, and Aunt Rosamond repeated the same arguments over and over again till she had almost succeeded in persuading herself into believing them. As for Miss Judith, she sat silent, rocking herself and shaking her head, for although she could not bring herself to contradict her sister even on so important a matter as this, she naturally took the sentimental and emotional view of the case, and concluded in her own mind that Lettice and Captain Ivie had eloped.
But when Williams returned with the startling announcement that “Miss McCormack had left that morning on a visit to friends at Perth, and that Captain Ivie was to drive with her as far as Auchterarder, but had not as yet returned,” even Aunt Rosamond began to feel that matters had taken a serious turn.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” she said as the maid gave her the man’s message. “This is some trick on Miss McCormack’s part. Judith, if you go off into hysterics again I shall lock you in by yourself till you come to!” (this severely to her sister.) “Heavens! I must consult someone—not Lord Lochiel; certainly not. Matthews, go to Mrs. Rosneath and ask her if she will be so very kind as to come to me here for five minutes, but be sure not to give her the message till she’s quite alone.”
It was now about nine o’clock in the evening; dancing had commenced, and the absence of Miss Lettice Tremarten, who was supposed to be the belle of the ball, was being very freely commented upon. Lord Lochiel, not satisfied with his sister’s explanation of the matter, had commissioned one of the servants to make special inquiries on his own part as to the young lady’s health and whether there was a possibility of her so far overcoming her fatigue as to join the dancers, and Mrs. Rosneath had just expressed her intention of going personally to inquire for the Misses Tremarten when Aunt Rosamond’s message was brought to her.
“What is it, what is it, my dear friend?” she exclaimed in genuine alarm and anxiety as she entered Aunt Rosamond’s room.
“Now don’t you make a fuss, there’s a good creature,” said Aunt Rosamond, “or else I shall regret having sent for you. Nothing serious has happened, only Lettice went out this afternoon and hasn’t returned.” Even
