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Every one seemed to be more or less responsible for her; but neither wonder nor anything else gave them the least clew as to whither or why she had gone. After a few day's earnest discussion and inquiry the excitement died away, when a wonderful event revived it. It was no other than the arrival of the new Earl of Mountdean in search of his little girl.
He did not understand that to Lord Mountdean this child his dying wife's legacy was the one object in life, that she was all that remained to him of a love that had been dearer than life itself. Commonplace words of comfort rose to his lips, but the earl did not even hear them. He looked up suddenly, with a ghastly pallor still on his face. "How foolish I am to alarm myself so greatly!" he said.
So Lord Arleigh took the good advice given to him to lay still, but on the second day he rose, declaring that he could stand no further confinement. Even then Lord Mountdean would not hear of his going. "I am compelled to be despotic with you," he said. "I know that at Glaburn you have no housekeeper, only men-servants and they cannot make you comfortable, I am sure.
It was strange how completely a vail of silence and mystery had fallen over her. When he had been some time at Beechgrove he received one morning a letter from the Earl of Mountdean, saying that he was in the neighborhood, and would like to call. Lord Arleigh was pleased at the prospect.
Still I must say that, unless there is something far deeper and more terrible than I can imagine, you have done wrong to part from your wife." "I wish I could think so. But my doom is fixed, and no matter how long I live, or she lives, it can never be altered." "My story is a sad one," observed Lord Mountdean, "but it is not so sad as yours.
Lord Arleigh felt very disconsolate that June morning. The world was so beautiful, so bright, so fair, it seemed hard that he should have no pleasure in it. If fate had but been kinder to him! To increase his dullness, Lord Mountdean, who had been staying with him some days, had suddenly disappeared.
He thought to himself, as he rang the bell at the outer gate, how strange it was that he the husband should be standing there ringing for admittance. A servant opened the gate, and Lord Arleigh asked if the Earl of Mountdean was within, and was told that he was. "There is nothing the matter, I hope," said Lord Arleigh "nothing wrong?"
"You are at Rosorton, a shooting-lodge belonging to me, and I beg that you will make yourself at home." Every attention was paid to him. He was placed in a warm bed, some warm, nourishing soup was brought to him, and he was left to rest. "The Earl of Mountdean." Then this was the tall figure he had seen striding over the hills this was the neighbor he had shunned and avoided, preferring solitude.
But he controlled himself. "I am not the most patient of men, Margaret Dornham," he said; "and you are trying me terribly. In the name of Heaven, I ask you, what have you done with my child?" "I have not injured her," she sobbed. "Is she living or dead?" asked the earl, with terrible calmness. "She is living," replied the weeping woman. Lord Mountdean raised his face reverently to the summer sky.
"Who are you who tells me this?" "I am Hubert, Earl of Mountdean," he replied, "and, if you will allow me, I will tell you what else I am." "Tell me," she said, gently. "I am your father, Madaline and the best part of my life has been spent in looking for you." "My father," she said, faintly. "Then I am not the daughter of a convict my father is an earl?"
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