And again she rang the bell and sent a servant with a message to the lady's maid.

Full ten minutes pa.s.sed, and then Margaret, the maid, came herself to the drawing-room door, begged pardon for her intrusion, and asked to speak with Lady Belgrade.

Lady Belgrade went out to her.

"What is it? The time is up! This delay is perfectly disgraceful. They will never be able to catch the tidal train now--never!" said her ladyship in a displeased tone.

"If you please, my lady, I am afraid something has happened," said the girl, in a frightened tone.

"What do you mean?" inquired the dowager, sharply.

"If you please, my lady, I went up and found all the doors leading from the corridor into her grace's suite of apartments locked fast. I knocked and called, at first softly, then loudly, but received no answer. I listened, my lady, but I heard no sound nor motion in the rooms."

"I will go up myself," said Lady Belgrade, uneasily.

And she hurried, as fast as her age and her size would permit, to the part of the house comprising the apartments of the d.u.c.h.ess. Three doors opened from the corridor, relatively, into the boudoir, bed-room, and dressing-room, which were also connected by communicating doors within.

Lady Belgrade rapped and called at each in succession, but in vain. There was no response.

"She has fainted in her room! That is what has happened! This day of fatigue and excitement has been too much for her, in the delicate state of her health. Every one noticed how ill she looked when she came up stairs. Margaret, there is a back door, you are aware, leading from your lady's bath-room down to the flower garden. Go around and go up the back stairs and see if that door is open--if so, enter the rooms by it and open this," said her ladyship, never ceasing, while she talked, to rap at and shake the door at which she stood.

Margaret flew to obey, and made such good haste, that in about two minutes she was heard within the rooms hurrying to open the closed door.

In two seconds bolts were withdrawn, keys turned, and the door was opened.

"How is she?" quickly demanded the dowager, as she stepped into the dressing-room.

"My lady, I haven't seen her grace. If you please, perhaps she is in her chamber," replied the maid.

Lady Belgrade bustled into the bed-room, looking all around for the bride, then into the boudoir, calling on her name.

"Salome! Salome, my dear! Where are you?" No answer; all in the luxurious rooms still and silent as the grave.

"This is very strange! She _may_ be in the garden," said her ladyship, pa.s.sing quickly into the bath-room, and descending the stairs that led directly into a small flower-garden enclosed by high walls.

The garden was now dead and sear in the late October frost. No sign of the missing girl was there.

"This is very strange! Can she have gone down into the drawing-room, after all? I will see. There is no possibility of catching the tidal train now. It is already three o'clock; the train leaves London Bridge Station at three thirty, and it is a good hour's ride from Kensington!"

said Lady Belgrade, speaking more to herself than to her attendant, as she came out of the rooms.

"Shall I go through the house and inquire if any one has seen her grace, my lady?" respectfully suggested Margaret.

"Yes; but first shut and lock that garden door of your lady's bath-room.

It is not safe to leave it open," replied Lady Belgrade, as she again descended the stairs.

As she entered the drawing-room, the young Duke of Hereward came to meet her.

"I hope nothing is the matter. Salome was not looking strong this morning. And this delay? I trust that she is well?" he said, in an anxious, inquiring tone.

"Salome is not in her apartments. I have sent a servant to seek her through the house. Her delay has made you miss the train, your grace,"

said Lady Belgrade, in visible annoyance.

"That does not much matter, so that the delay has not been caused by her indisposition," said the young duke, earnestly.

"No indisposition could possibly excuse such eccentricity of conduct at such a time. Salome is moving somewhere about the house, according to her crazy custom," said Lady Belgrade.

"I really cannot hear that sweet girl so cruelly maligned, even by her aunt," said the duke, with a deprecating smile.

As they spoke, the Baron Von Levison appeared and said:

"I should have been very glad to have seen you off, duke, and to have thrown a metaphorical old shoe after you; but your bride seems to have taken so long to tie her bonnet strings, that she has made you miss your train. And now you can't go until the night express, and I really can't wait to see you off by that. I have an appointment at the Bank of England at four. G.o.d bless you, my dear duke. Make my adieux to my niece, and tell her that if the men of her family had been as unpunctual as the women seem to be, they never would have established banks all over Europe."

And with a hearty shake of the bridegroom's hand, and a deep bow to Lady Belgrade, the Baron Von Levison took leave.

His example was followed by the bishop and the rector, who now came up and expressed regret at the inconvenience the bridegroom would experience by having missed his train, but agreed that it was much better to know that fact before starting for it, and having the long drive to London Bridge Station and back again for nothing. And they extolled the comfort of the night express, and the elegance of accommodations to be found at the Lord Warden Hotel. And upon the whole, they concluded that his grace had not missed much, after all, in missing the "tidal."

Then again they wished much happiness to attend the married life of the young couple, and so bade adieux and departed.

There now remained of the wedding guests only the two bridesmaids and the groomsmen.

These were grouped near one of the bay-windows, and engaged in a subdued conversation.

The Duke of Hereward and Lady Belgrade still stood near the door, waiting for news of the lingering bride.

To them, at length, came the maid, Margaret, with pallid face and frightened air.

"If you please, my lady, we have searched all over the house and inquired of everybody in it. But no one has seen her grace, nor can she be found."

CHAPTER XVII.

THE LOST LADY OF LONE.

"Cannot be found? Whatever do you mean, girl? You cannot mean to say that the d.u.c.h.ess of Hereward is not in this house?" demanded Lady Belgrade, in amazement.

"I beg pardon, my lady; but we have made a thorough search of the premises, without being able to find her grace," respectfully answered the maid.

"Oh, but this is ridiculous! The d.u.c.h.ess is in some of the rooms; she must be! Go and renew your search, and tell her grace, when you find her, that she has made the duke miss the tidal train; but that we are waiting for her here," commanded the lady.

The girl went, very submissively, on her errand.

Lady Belgrade dropped wearily into her chair, muttering:

"I do think servants are so idiotic. They can't find her because she happens to be out of her own room. I would go and hunt her up myself, but really the fatigue of this day has been too much for me."

The Duke of Hereward did not reply. He walked restlessly up and down the floor, filled with a vague uneasiness, for which he could not account to himself--for surely, he reflected, Salome must be in the house somewhere; it could not possibly be otherwise; and there were a dozen simple reasons why she might be missed for a few minutes; doubtless she would soon appear, and smile at their impatience.