He went down to Lilla.
“I’m going at once to the inn where McKenzie is, and will tell them to send round my cart with Dido and Daniel for you. I shall take Donegal and ride over to Lochiel and see if she is there all right.”
“You are mad!” screamed Lilla after him. But he took no heed and went.
How Aunt Rosamond lived through that terrible night of suspense she did not know. Mrs. Rosneath kindly offered to sit up with her.
“No,” said the old lady resolutely, “if you’ll only be kind enough to let everything go on as usual. We are supposed to be shut in for the night. Well, let us be shut in, and tomorrow no doubt something will occur to show us what we ought to do. Only make everyone believe Lettice is laid up with a sprained ankle.”
Next came Lady Elizabeth Mackreth, very solicitous, as became a hostess, and wishful to see Lettice and say good night.
“I dare not disturb her” (“Heavens! I’ve told enough lies for her!”—this in her own heart), “and I fear I must say goodbye as well as good night, Lady Elizabeth, for I know we shall have to start so very early tomorrow, before you will be down. We leave Mrs. Rosneath’s tomorrow en route for Paris or Wales, I’m not quite sure which.” Lady Elizabeth looked politely surprised. “Lettice will be so sorry,” continued Miss Tremarten, “but I fear it must be. Good night.”
Lady Elizabeth went away with the impression that her guest was slightly deranged. She had not known Miss Tremarten very long nor very intimately, and was quite at a loss to understand her extraordinary behaviour on this occasion.
Poor Aunt Rosamond! She knew perfectly well that her structure of lies was built upon a very shallow foundation, and that sooner or later it must crumble into dust, but nevertheless she resolved that while she could she would do what she could for this niece of hers who had brought her so much anxiety and heartache.
And with the morning there came a very great and welcome surprise to Aunt Rosamond, which was nothing more nor less than the appearance of Dr. Herron on the scene. Miss Tremarten had just released her sister and Matthews, after ascertaining that they were in a more reasonable and calmer state of mind, and was consulting with them as to the possibility of arousing the Rosneaths and commencing the day’s work of telegraphy and inquiry which she knew was before her, when a servant brought a message that Dr. Herron was below and wished to see her.
“Dr. Herron!” exclaimed the old lady joyfully. Under other circumstances she would have wished him, to say the least, in another hemisphere, but with this accumulation of responsibility upon her shoulders she was ready almost to fall down and worship him.
“Let him come up at once,” she said. “Now, Judith, be calm, I beg; don’t interrupt us, or else I shall lock you and Matthews up together again. Matthews, stay where you are; I won’t trust you out of my sight.”
Dr. Herron entered, frank and honest-looking as ever, although perhaps a little graver than when Lettice last said goodbye to him in the flower-garden of her pleasant country home.
He quickly explained his unexpected arrival.
“Mr. Tremarten was very uneasy after receiving your last letter,” he said to Aunt Rosamond, “and could not understand why, if there were any cause for anxiety on your part with regard to the insulting attention paid by Captain McCormack to Miss Tremarten, she could not return home at once. He did not at all approve of your plan of taking her for a long trip through Europe and America; he did not at all like the idea even of her coming here for the archery fête after the impertinent manner in which you have been annoyed and followed. He did not feel equal (his health has not been good lately) to the long journey so far North, and I as an old friend volunteered to come in his stead, and express more fully than could be done by letter his wishes respecting his daughter. By dint of rapid travelling I arrived at Perth late last night, could get nothing on wheels to bring me on, so was compelled to wait till daybreak. Before the sun was up I was, and here I am.”
In all this Dr. Herron was scarcely so honest and plainspoken as was his wont. If he had told the simple, unvarnished truth, it would have run somewhat in this fashion:—
“I have suffered agonies of torment ever since I heard that scoundrel McCormack was on friendly terms with your niece, and the torment reached its culminating point when your last letter told us of his daring to follow you here to Scotland. I said to Mr. Tremarten, ‘There is much behind all this, or why should they be so anxious to carry her off for a tour round the world? That archery fête may bring matters to a crisis, and Heaven only knows what will follow. Look here, Mr. Tremarten, if you can stay here quietly while mischief is being done I can’t. You’ve not been particularly strong lately, and are scarcely fit to travel. I would like the journey, and if you’ll allow me will start at once.’ ”
However, Aunt Rosamond had too much on her mind at that moment to criticise Dr. Herron’s forms of expression
