II.
From Miss Garth to Mr. Pendril.
"Westmoreland House, Kensington,
"September 23d, 1846.
"MY DEAR SIR—I write these lines in such misery of mind as no words can
describe. Magdalen has deserted us. At an early hour this morning she
secretly left the house, and she has not been heard of since.
"I would come and speak to you personally; but I dare not leave Norah. I
must try to control myself; I must try to write.
"Nothing happened yesterday to prepare me or to prepare Norah for this
last—I had almost said, this worst—of all our afflictions. The only
alteration we either of us noticed in the unhappy girl was an alteration
for the better when we parted for the night. She kissed me, which she
has not done latterly; and she burst out crying when she embraced her
sister next. We had so little suspicion of the truth that we thought
these signs of renewed tenderness and affection a promise of better
things for the future.
"This morning, when her sister went into her room, it was empty, and
a note in her handwriting, addressed to Norah, was lying on the
dressing-table. I cannot prevail on Norah to part with the note; I can
only send you the inclosed copy of it. You will see that it affords no
clew to the direction she has taken.
"Knowing the value of time, in this dreadful emergency, I examined her
room, and (with my sister's help) questioned the servants immediately on
the news of her absence reaching me. Her wardrobe was empty; and all her
boxes but one, which she has evidently taken away with her, are empty, too. We are of opinion that she has privately turned her dresses and jewelry into money; that she had the one trunk she took with her removed from the house yesterday; and that she left us this morning on foot. The answers given by one of the servants are so unsatisfactory that we believe the woman has been bribed to assist her; and has managed all those arrangements for her flight which she could not have safely undertaken by herself.
"Of the immediate object with which she has left us, I entertain no
doubt.
"I have reasons (which I can tell you at a fitter time) for feeling
assured that she has gone away with the intention of trying her
fortune on the stage. She has in her possession the card of an actor
by profession, who superintended an amateur theatrical performance at
Clifton, in which she took part; and to him she has gone to help her. I saw the card at the time, and I know the actor's name to be Huxtable. The address I cannot call to mind quite so correctly; but I am almost sure it was at some theatrical place in Bow Street, Covent Garden. Let me entreat you not to lose a moment in sending to make the necessary inquiries; the first trace of her will, I firmly believe, be found at that address.
"If we had nothing worse to dread than her attempting to go on the
stage, I should not feel the distress and dismay which now overpower me. Hundreds of other girls have acted as recklessly as she has acted, and have not ended ill after all. But my fears for Magdalen do not begin and end with the risk she is running at present.
