At Love's Cost - Page 285/342

Mr. Heron, whatever he may have looked, was feeling anything but well

at that moment; for he suspected than the lawyer was only masking his

attack, and that he meant to spring upon him presently.

"I enjoy fairly good health, Mr. Wordley, thank you," he said, in his

sanctimonious way; "but I have my share of trials and anxieties in this

miserable world."

"Oh, don't call it miserable, on a morning like this!" said Mr.

Wordley, cheerfully. "My dear sir, there is nothing the matter with the

world; it's--er--some of the people in it that try to make it

miserable."

While he had been speaking, he had been glancing at the door and

listening, as if he had been listening and expecting to hear and see

someone else.

"The fact is," he said, "I have come up rather suddenly on rather

important business: came up without a moment's delay. _Where is_ Miss

Ida? I should like to see her at once, please, if I may!"

The faces of the pair grew sallow, and the corners of John Heron's

mouth dropped lower even than usual.

"Ida?" he said, in a hollow voice, as if he were confused. "Where is

she? Surely you know, Mr. Wordley?"

"I know? How should I know? I came up to see her: not a moment to

spare. Isn't she here? Why do you both stare at me like this?"

"She is not here," said John Heron. "Ida left our house more than a

fortnight ago."

Mr. Wordley looked disappointed, and grunted: "Oh, gone to stay with some friends, I suppose. I'll trouble you to

give me their address, Mr. Heron, please."

He rose, as he spoke, as if he meant starting on the moment, but he

sank into the chair again as John Heron said in a sepulchral voice: "I should most willingly do so, Mr. Wordley, but I regret to say I do

not know where she is."

"You--don't--know--where--she is!" said Mr. Wordley, anger and

amazement struggling for the upper hand. "What the devil I beg your

pardon, Mrs. Heron! You must excuse an old man with a short temper and

a touch of the gout--but I don't understand you! Why don't you know?"

Mrs. Heron began to sniff, and her worthy husband drew himself up and

tried to look dignified, and failed utterly in the attempt.

"Such language--" he began.

"Confound my language, sir!" snapped the old lawyer, his face growing

red. "Be good enough to answer my question!"