question, which, with more than his usual art, her husband put to her
respecting the non-appearance of his ward. Mrs. Melmoth answered, that
Ellen had complained of indisposition, and after drinking, by her
prescription, a large cup of herb-tea, had retired to her chamber early in
the evening. Thankful that all was yet safe, the doctor laid his head upon
his pillow; but, late as was the hour, his many anxious thoughts long
drove sleep from his eyelids.

The diminution in the quantity of his natural rest did not, however,
prevent Dr. Melmoth from rising at his usual hour, which at all seasons of
the year was an early one. He found, on descending to the parlor, that
breakfast was nearly in readiness; for the lady of the house (and, as a
corollary, her servant-girl) was not accustomed to await the rising of the
sun in order to commence her domestic labors. Ellen Langton, however, who
had heretofore assimilated her habits to those of the family, was this
morning invisible,--a circumstance imputed by Mrs. Melmoth to her
indisposition of the preceding evening, and by the doctor, to
mortification on account of her elopement and its discovery.

"I think I will step into Ellen's bedchamber," said Mrs. Melmoth, "and
inquire how she feels herself. The morning is delightful after the storm,
and the air will do her good."

"Had we not better proceed with our breakfast? If the poor child is
sleeping, it were a pity to disturb her," observed the doctor; for,
besides his sympathy with Ellen's feelings, he was reluctant, as if he
were the guilty one, to meet her face.

"Well, be it so. And now sit down, doctor; for the hot cakes are cooling
fast. I suppose you will say they are not so good as those Ellen made