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Updated: June 12, 2025
Name on clothing, "Ida Heron."" Mr. Wordley sprang to his feet. "It is she!" he exclaimed. "Was she much hurt, is is she alive where is she? I must go to her at once." "London Hospital," replied the inspector, succinctly, as he turned to a subordinate. "Call a cab!" It was not a particularly slow hansom, and it did not take very long to get from the police station to the hospital; but to Mr.
I am not a wealthy man; my simple home cannot compare in size and grandeur with Heron Hall and the estate which my late unfortunate cousin appears to have squandered, but such as it is, Ida will be welcome in it. I am not one to turn a deaf ear to the cry of the orphan and fatherless." Mr. Wordley frowned and reddened, and cut in before Mr.
"Ensnaring the affections of this!" he snorted, with a contempt which caused Mr. Joseph's immediate retreat. "Oh, you must be out of your mind!" "Her conduct was reprehensible in other ways," stammered John Heron. "Nonsense!" almost shouted Mr. Wordley. "I don't want to hear any more of such nonsense. Miss Ida's conduct reprehensible!
They drew a breath of relief, and nodded assentingly; and presently they made a general movement of departure. Lord Bannerdale lingered behind the others. "I won't ask the poor child to see me, Mr. Wordley," he said.
Ida uttered a cry and staggered a little; for she was not yet as strong as the girl who used to ride through Herondale, and Mr. Wordley caught her by both hands and supported her. "Thank God! thank God!" was all he could exclaim for a minute. "My dear child! my dear Miss Ida! Sit down!" He drew her to one of the long benches and sat down beside her.
The dearest, the sweetest and best Oh, let me get out, or I shall say something offensive." As he made for the door, John Heron cleared his throat and stammered: "I forgive you, sir. You will regret this exhibition of brutal violence, and I shall put up a prayer " "Don't you dare to put up any prayer for me!" cried Mr. Wordley. "I should be afraid something would happen to me.
He rose, as he spoke, as if he meant starting on the moment, but he sank into the chair again as John Heron said in a sepulchral voice: "I should most willingly do so, Mr. Wordley, but I regret to say I do not know where she is." "You don't know where she is!" said Mr. Wordley, anger and amazement struggling for the upper hand. "What the devil I beg your pardon, Mrs. Heron!
His first thought was of the relatives; but, somewhat to his own dismay, he found that the only one whom he could trace was a certain cousin, a more than middle-aged man who, though he bore the name of Heron, was quite unknown to Ida, and, so far as Mr. Wordley was aware, had not crossed the threshold of the Hall for many years.
"They have not sent you any definite invitation yet, but they will be sure to want you to go and stay with them, for a time, at any rate; and I think you ought to go." "I do not think I should like it," said Ida, but indifferently, as if the question were of no moment. "I would rather stay here" Mr. Wordley polished his glasses very intently.
Wordley came out of the house to get his horse, and hurried to her, bare-headed, in the good old way. "No, I can't stay," he said in answer to her invitation. "I have to be back at the office; but I'll ride a little way with you, if I may. It isn't often I get the chance of riding with the prettiest girl in the county.
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