"Lilian! Lilian!"

"Heavens! What has happened?"

"She has left! she is gone,--gone away! Oh, Allen, how?--whither?
Advise me. What is to be done?"

"Come in--compose yourself--tell me all,--clearly, quickly. Lilian
gone,--gone away? Impossible! She must be hid somewhere in the
house,--the garden; she, perhaps, did not like the journey. She may have
crept away to some young friend's house. But I talk when you should talk:
tell me all."

Little enough to tell! Lilian had seemed unusually cheerful the night
before, and pleased at the thought of the excursion. Mother and daughter
retired to rest early: Mrs. Ashleigh saw Lilian sleeping quietly before
she herself went to bed. She woke betimes in the morning, dressed
herself, went into the next room to call Lilian--Lilian was not there. No
suspicion of flight occurred to her. Perhaps her daughter might be up
already, and gone downstairs, remembering something she might wish to pack
and take with her on the journey. Mrs. Ashleigh was confirmed in this
idea when she noticed that her own room door was left open. She went
downstairs, met a maidservant in the hall, who told her, with alarm and
surprise, that both the street and garden doors were found unclosed. No
one had seen Lilian. Mrs. Ashleigh now became seriously uneasy. On
remounting to her daughter's room, she missed Lilian's bonnet and mantle.
The house and garden were both searched in vain. There could be no doubt
that Lilian had gone,--must have stolen noiselessly at night through her
mother's room, and let herself out of the house and through the garden.