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Updated: June 14, 2025
And, though this I did not tell Hephzy, she had called me "Kent" for the first time since the happy days at the rectory. I feared all sorts of things. She did not come on the morrow, or the following day, or the day after that. Another week passed and she did not come, nor had we received any word from her.
And when she spoke her answer surprised me. "You are mistaken," she said. "I have other relatives. Good-by, Mr. Knowles." She was on her way to the door. "But, Frances," I cried, "you are not going. Wait. Hephzy will be here any moment. Don't go." She shook her head. "I must go," she said. At the door she turned and looked back. "Good-by," she said, again. "Good-by, Kent."
He's at the Continental Hotel, you say?" "Yes; but he leaves to-morrow. There, Hephzy, that's enough. Don't talk about it. Change the subject. I am ready to go back to England yes, or America either, whenever you say the word. The sooner the better for me." Hephzy obediently changed the subject and we decided to leave Paris the following afternoon.
Then I realized that Lord Eustace, like the owners of the hat-boxes, recognizing the value of a title, advertised it accordingly. I laughed when I saw the suitcase and the hat-boxes. When I told Hephzy about the latter she laughed, too. "That's funny, isn't it," she said.
Why couldn't it have gone on as it has been going? Why did you do it?" It was an unthinking, wicked speech. But Hephzy did not resent it. Her reply was as patient and kind as if she had been answering a child. "I had to do it, Hosy," she said. "After our talk this evenin' there was only one thing to do. It had to be done for your sake, if nothin' else and so I did it.
"The sea is pretty rough." "Oh, the sea is all right. A bit damp, that's all. It's the blessed boat. Foreigners are such wretched sailors." He was off on another tack. Hephzy watched him wonderingly. "A bit damp," she repeated. "Yes, I shouldn't wonder if 'twas. I suppose likely he wouldn't call it wet if he fell overboard." "Not on this side of the Channel," I answered.
Then she stood aside to allow him to pass, bowing low as he entered the room. She stood for a moment smiling upon the burly figure. She noted how the plain features lit up at the sight of the girl bending over the sewing-machine. Then she gave herself an obvious cue. "I'll go and call mother Hephzy," she said, and retreated hastily to the bake-house.
She had asked us not to follow her, to make no attempt to find her. I had preached compliance with her wish to Hephzy, to Doctor Bayliss yes, to Herbert Bayliss that very afternoon. But Herbert Bayliss was sworn to find her, in spite of me, in spite of the Evil One. And Heathcroft had told young Bayliss the same story he had told me.
If you have any last bits of shopping to do, now is your opportunity. Or you might wait here if you prefer. We will be back at half-past twelve and lunch together." I started. Hephzy sprang from the chair. "Half-past twelve!" I cried. "Lunch together!" gasped Hephzy. "Why, Mr. Campbell! the 'Princess Eulalie' sails at noon. You said so yourself!" Jim smiled.
"That girl makes me so provoked," sniffed Hephzy, dropping the most recent letter in her lap with a gesture of disgust. "She says she's got a cold in the head and she's scared to death for fear it'll get 'set onto her, whatever that is.
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