Edna, though manifestly awed
by this first full revelation of her friend's concern for Davenport,
undertook promptly the office of banishing the alarm she had helped to
raise.
"Oh, don't be frightened, dear. There's nothing serious, after all. Men
often go where business calls them, without accounting to anybody. He's
quite able to take care of himself. I'm sure it isn't as bad as Tom
says."
"As I say!" exclaimed Larcher. "_I_ don't say it's bad at all. It's your
own imagination, Edna,--your sudden and sensational imagination. There's
no occasion for alarm, Miss Kenby. Men often, as Edna says--"
"But I must make sure," interrupted Florence. "If anything _is_ wrong,
we're losing time. He must be sought for--the police must be notified."
"His landlady--a very good woman, her name is Mrs. Haze--spoke of that,
and she's the proper one to do it. But we decided, she and I, to wait
awhile longer. You see, if the police took up the matter, and it got
noised about, and Davenport reappeared in the natural order of
things--as of course he will--why, how foolish we should all feel!"
"What do feelings of that sort matter, when deeper ones are concerned?"
"Nothing at all; but I'm thinking of Davenport's feelings. You know how
he would hate that sort of publicity."
"That must be risked. It's a small thing compared with his safety. Oh, if
you knew my anxiety!"
"I understand, Miss Kenby. I'll have Mrs. Haze go to police headquarters
at once. I'll go with her.
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