As she and Georgy were about to retire, she did come up to him, briefly smiling. “Alex, I haven’t thanked you for all you’ve done for me.”
He was seized with an odd sense of finality and broke into instant speech. “Why should you be saying that now?”
A flush crept into her cheeks and she lowered her voice. “Well, because — because there is no knowing what may happen when you see Mr Vergette tomorrow, and…”
Alex eyed her with a sliver of dismay. “Was wondering why you hadn’t asked about that.”
“What was the point? I’ve been trying not to worry about it.”
“Any success?”
She gave a tiny laugh. “Not much. But I’m learning, Alex.”
“Learning what?”
“To be a bit more patient.”
He was betrayed into a snort. “That’ll be the day.” To his consternation, a stricken look flashed across her face. Remorse gripped him. “I didn’t mean that, Apple!”
“I know.” A smile wavered on her lips, and the conviction that she was on the verge of tears seized him. “Goodnight, Alex.”
Then she was gone before he could say anything else, leaving him as much perturbed about her upset as the coming interview with Vergette. He slept ill, disturbed by dreams of chasing Apple into unknown destinations, and waking so many times that he felt little rested by morning. By the time he came down to breakfast, he was chafing and wishing the hours away to his meeting with the lawyer at eleven o’clock.
The usual quiet prevailed at the breakfast table, which relieved him of the necessity to make polite conversation. His mother always read her correspondence while his father perused the morning paper. But when Georgy came in unattended, the brief peace was at an end.
“Where’s Apple?”
His sister halted in her way to the table, looking about. “I thought she must have come down before me. Usually she waits, you know.”
A horrid presentiment attacked Alex. “Is she in her room?”
Georgy stared at him. “I must suppose so.”
“Go and look! Or no, I’ll go myself.”
By this time, both his parents had laid down their morning occupations.
“What is amiss, Alexander? Why are you so jumpy?”
Alex paused as he made for the door. “Tell you later, Mama. First things first.”
Wholly forgetting the masquerade under which he’d brought Apple to his home, his mind alive with apprehensive conjecture, Alex sped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and made the best of his way to the room next to Georgy’s.
He tapped on the door, calling out at the same time. “Apple? Apple, are you in there?”
There was no response.
His heart dropping, Alex turned the handle and opened the door, flinging it wide.
Apple’s room was empty, but the bed had clearly been slept in. Did that mean she was still here? He would soon find out. He crossed to the bell-pull and tugged at it hard, knowing Georgy’s girl Nelly would come in answer. He was just wondering in which place to search first when a light footstep sounded outside and Georgy tripped into the room.
“Goodness, isn’t she here?”
“No. But if she’s gone off, it wasn’t last night. She can’t be far.”
Georgy stared. “Gone off? But why, Alex? She wouldn’t run away. Not now!”
He wasted no time in refuting this. “Where would she keep her clothes? And that bandbox or valise, whatever she had?”
