Gerald looked round in dismay; evening was fast deepening into night.
"Nearly eight o'clock. Do you feel refreshed?"
"I'm a new man. How about Emilia? Have you seen her? Can I go to her?" He dressed rapidly as he spoke.
"I am sorry to say," continued Leonard, "that I can obtain no news of her. Wait yet a little while; I will go out again and endeavor to find her."
"I forbid it, Gerald. You will spoil all if you don't mind. I should not be here now, but I was getting alarmed about you. I will return in an hour."
He hastened away before Gerald could reply. "What am I to do now?" he thought. "If Gerald makes inquiries himself he will be certain to learn where she is. I have twelve hundred pounds in my pocket. If the devil would range himself on my side I would give him half of it with pleasure."
He little knew how near he was to the accomplishment of his wishes. At that moment Mrs. Seaton was making her way to the house of the maiden sisters. He himself was wending his course toward the house, moodily debating how he could drive Emilia from it, and from the town forever. He knew all about Mrs. Seaton and her animosity against Emilia; the woman had been pointed out to him early in the day, and her face was familiar to him. He walked slowly, she quickly; thus she overtook and passed him, but he had seen and recognized her. He quickened his steps, and paused as she paused, before the house of the maiden sisters. With unerring intuition he guessed her errand.
"Are you going to see the ladies who live here, madam?" he asked in his most respectful tone.
"I am, sir," she replied with asperity. "Who are you, may I inquire?"
"I am a stranger in the town, madam," he said, speaking with the greatest deference. "Is it not to this place that the young person was taken who was found in Mr. Gerald Paget's house last night?"
"It is, and my business is to expose her. Have you any objections?"
"Not the slightest, madam. I think you are performing a Christian duty."
"I am not obliged to you, sir," said Mrs. Seaton, haughtily. "I am in the habit of doing my duty without being prompted. The creature who is harbored there shall be turned adrift before many hours are over. She is a disgrace to the neighborhood, and I will see that she is hunted out of it."