He had then, in
his perplexity, written to her old friends in Florence,
thinking it just possible they might be able to give him some
information, but with no more success. He received an answer
from the American artist, in which he mentioned the death of
the old violinist, lamented Madelon's disappearance, but, as
may be supposed, gave no news of her.
Graham was greatly annoyed and perplexed. What could have
become of the child? To whom could she have gone? She had had
no friend but himself when he had last parted from her, and
she could hardly, he imagined, have made any outside the
convent walls. And why had she run away? Had she been unkindly
treated? Why had she not written to him if she were in
trouble? These and a hundred other questions he asked himself,
reproaching himself the while for not having kept up some kind
of communication with her, or with Mademoiselle Linders. He
had a real interest in, and affection for, the child, whom he
had befriended in her hour of need; and held himself besides
in some sort responsible for her welfare, after the promise he
had made to her father on his death-bed.
Pages:
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456