You mark my
words, I’ve means of finding out things that you know nothing of, and
I’ve just seen it written over your ’ead that ’e’ll be ’ere by dinner
time, so you can go out for your morning’s jaunt in perfect comfort!”

Harriet brightened up at this prophecy, and Bobby had never had a
merrier time with her than he had that morning. But the prophecy was not fulfilled. Ralph Pullen was by that time
in England with his bereaved sister-in-law, and the night arrived
without the people in Brussels hearing anything of him. He had not
even written a line to account for his failure to keep his engagement
with them. The fact is that Captain Pullen, although as a rule most
punctilious in all matters of courtesy, felt so ashamed of himself
and the folly into which he had been led, that he felt that silence
would be the best explanation that he had decided to break off the
acquaintanceship. He had no real feeling for Harriet Brandt or anybody
(except himself)--with him “out of sight” was “out of mind”--and the
sad occurrence which had forced him to return to England seemed an
excellent opportunity to rid himself of an undesirable entanglement. But Harriet became frantic at the nonfulfilment of his promise. Her
strong feelings could not brook delay. She wanted to rush back to Heyst
to demand the reason of his defalcation--and in default of that, to
write, or wire to him at once and ascertain what he intended to do. But
the Baroness prevented her doing either. “Look ’ere, ’Arriet!” she said to the girl, who was working herself up
into a fever, “it’s no use going on like this! ’E’ll come or ’e won’t
come! Most likely you’ll see ’im to-morrow or next day, and if not,
it’ll be because ’is sister won’t let ’im leave ’er, and the poor young
man doesn’t know what excuse to make! Couldn’t you see ’ow that Doctor
Phillips was set against the Captain joining us? ’E went most likely
and told Mrs. Pullen, and she ’as dissuaded her brother from coming
to Brussels. It’s ’ard for a man to go against ’is own relations, you
know!”

“But he should have written,” pleaded Harriet, “it makes me look a
fool!”

“Not a bit of it! Captain Pullen thinks you no fool. ’E’s more likely
to be thinking ’imself one. And, after all, you know, we shall be going
back to ’Eyst in a couple more days, and then you can ’ave ’im all to
yourself in the evenings and scold ’im to your ’eart’s content!”

But the girl was not made of the stuff that is amenable to reason. She
pouted and raved and denounced Ralph Pullen like a fury, declaring she
would not speak to him when they met again,--yet lay awake at night all
the same, wondering what had detained him from her side, and longing
with the fierceness of a tigress for blood, to feel his lips against
her own and to hear him say that he adored her. Bobby Bates stood by
during this tempestuous time, very sorrowful and rather perplexed. He
was not admitted to the confidence of his mother and her young friend,
so that he did not quite understand why Harriet Brandt should have so
suddenly changed from gay to grave, just because Captain Pullen was
unable to keep his promise to join them at Brussels. He had so enjoyed
her company hitherto and she had seemed to enjoy his, but now she bore
the gloomiest face possible, and it was no pleasure to go out with her
at all. He wondered if all girls were so--as capricious and changeable! Bobby had not seen much of women. He had been kept in the schoolroom
for the better part of his life, and his Mamma had not impressed him
with a great admiration for the sex. So, naturally, he thought Harriet
Brandt to be the most charming and beautiful creature he had ever seen,
though he was too shy to whisper the truth, even to himself. He tried
to bring back the smiles to her face in his boyish way, and the gift of
an abnormally large and long _sucre de pomme_ really did achieve that
object better than anything else. But the defalcation of Captain Pullen
made them all lose their interest in Brussels, and they returned to
Heyst a day sooner than they had intended. As the train neared the station, Harriet’s forgotten smiles began to
dimple her face again, and she peered eagerly from the windows of the
carriage, as if she expected Ralph Pullen to be on the platform to
meet them. But from end to end, she saw only cinders, Flemish country
women with huge baskets of fish or poultry on their arms, priests in
their _soutanes_ and broad-brimmed hats, and Belgians chattering and
screaming to each other and their children, as they crossed the line. Still, she alighted with her party, expectant and happy, and traversed
the little distance between the _entrepôt_ and the Hotel, far quicker
than the Baroness and her husband could keep up with her. She rushed
into the balcony and almost fell into the arms of the _proprietaire_,
Madame Lamont. “Ah! Mademoiselle!” she cried, “welcome back to Heyst, but have you
heard the desolating news?”

“What news?” exclaimed Harriet with staring eyes and a blanched cheek. “Why! that the English lady, _cette Madame, si tranquille, si
charmante_, lost her dear _bébé_ the very day that Mademoiselle and
Madame la Baronne left the Hotel!”

“Lost,” repeated Harriet, “do you mean that the child is _dead_?”

“Ah! yes, I do indeed,” replied Madame Lamont, “the dear _bébé_ was
taken with a fit whilst they were all at dinner, and never recovered
again. _C’était une perte irréparable!_ Madame was like a creature
distracted whilst she remained here!”

“Where is she then? Where has she gone?” cried Harriet, excitedly. “Ah! that I cannot tell Mademoiselle. The dear _bébé_ was taken
away to England to be buried. Madame Pullen and Mademoiselle Leyton
and Monsieur Phillippe and _le beau Capitaine_ all left Heyst on the
following day, that is Wednesday, and went to Ostende to take the boat
for Dover. I know no more!”

“Captain Pullen has gone away--he is not here?” exclaimed Miss Brandt,
betraying herself in her disappointment. “Oh! I don’t believe it! It cannot be true! He has gone to Ostende to see them on board the
steamer, but he will return--I am sure he will?”

Madame Lamont shrugged her shoulders. “Monsieur paid everything before he went and gave _douceurs_ to all the
servants--I do not think he has any intention of returning!”

At that juncture the Baron and Baroness reached the hotel. Harriet flew
to her friend for consolation. “I cannot believe what Madame Lamont says,” she exclaimed; “she
declares that they are all gone for good, Mrs. Pullen and Miss Leyton
and Captain Pullen and the doctor! They have returned to England. But
he is sure to come back, isn’t he? after all his promises to meet us in
Brussels! He couldn’t be so mean as to run off to England, without a
word, or a line, unless he intended to come back.”

She clung to Madame Gobelli with her eyes wide open and her large mouth
trembling with agitation, until even the coarse fibre of the Baroness’s
propriety made her feel ashamed of the exhibition.