Early as she was, however, Bernard had been earlier, for he had already left the house when she came downstairs.
Mrs. Cameron hired a dogcart and ordered a man to drive her as fast as possible to Doncaster Station.
But it happened that the dogcart collided with a waggon on the way. No one was hurt, but there was some confusion and considerable delay, and when at length Mrs. Cameron was able to walk into the station at Doncaster, it was to catch sight of the express fast disappearing in the distance.
"I have lost my son!" said the unhappy woman to herself. "He will never speak to me again when he finds out about the letters I have suppressed. He will hate me--yes, he will hate me for doing it." The thought followed that she would deserve her fate, for if ever a parent provoked her son to wrath she had done so.
The course of true love never did run smooth. SHAKESPEARE.
"No, sir. She doesn’t live here now, sir," answered Mrs. Austin, in melancholy tones.
"Not live here! Then where is she?" cried Bernard somewhat faintly, for in his surprise and consternation at not finding Doris there a return of the faintness that had before troubled him seemed imminent.
The good woman caught hold of him by the arm.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cameron, sir," she exclaimed. "You are ill. Come inside, sir. Come inside the house."
Bernard shook her hand off, declaring he was all right; but he walked unsteadily into the little sitting-room, where he had expected to find Doris.
"Sit down, sir; I’ll get you a glass of water or a cup of tea in a moment----"
"Nonsense! I mean, I’m much obliged to you. But all I wish to know is this, where is Miss Anderson? Where--is--Miss--Anderson?
"Oh, I’ll tell you, sir, in a moment," answered Mrs. Austin, bustling about and getting him some water. "Take a drink, sir," and she held the glass to his lips.
He drank slowly. The room, which had been turning round and sinking into the ground, became once more stationary, whilst the clouds of darkness disappeared, and it was light again.
"There, you’ll do now," said Mrs. Austin. "Miss Anderson told me that you had been ill."
"Never mind me. Where is she?" Bernard asked the question impatiently. Would the woman never answer him?
"There have been changes, sir, since you were here," said Mrs. Austin, rather nervously, standing before him, twisting her apron round her fingers, with her eyes fixed upon it. "It all came of the artist gentleman. I wish to goodness he had never set his foot inside of my door!"