A few minutes later she found herself alone in the cab which was to bear her to the railway station. Mrs Silchester's school at Frankfort was left behind; the now silenced voices began to echo in her ears. When she found herself virtually alone in the railway carriage, she arranged her flowers in order, then seated herself in a corner of the carriage and burst into uncontrollable crying. She was going home! Her bright life at the school was over. Her stepmother wanted her; her stepmother was ill. She knew exactly what it all meant. She had resisted several letters which she had received from home lately. They had come from her younger sisters, they had come from her brother; they had come from her father. Still she had rebelled and had struggled to keep away. She sent them half her salary, but it was no use. Her mother wanted her; she must come back. At last there arrived a more alarming message, a more indignant remonstrance. She could not help herself any longer. It was not as though it were her own mother; it was only her stepmother who wanted her, and she had never been specially good to Marcia, who had always been something of a drudge in the family. Her salary was not half as important as her services. She must come back. She consulted Mrs Silchester; she even gave her a hint of the truth. Mrs Silchester had hesitated, had longed to advise the girl to remain with them. "You are the making of the school," she said. "You keep all those unruly girls in order. They adore you; you teach them English most beautifully, and you are my right hand. Why should you leave me?" "I suppose it is my duty," said Marcia. She paused for a minute and looked straight before her. She and Mrs Silchester were in a private sitting room belonging to the latter lady, who glanced firmly at the tall, fine, handsome girl. "Duty," she said, "it is a sorry bugbear sometimes, isn't it?" "To me it is," said Marcia. "I have sacrificed all my life to my sense of duty; but perhaps I am mistaken." "I do not think so; it seems the only thing to do." "Then in that case I will write and say that I will go back at once." "I tell you what, my dear, if your mother is better when you return, and you can so arrange matters, I will keep this place open for you. I will get a lady in as a substitute for a short time; I won't have a permanent teacher, but I will have you back. When you return to England, write to me and tell me if there is any use my pursuing this idea." Marcia said firmly: "I know I shall never be able to return; once I am back I shall have to stay. There is no use in thinking of anything else."