In spite of her careful calculations, the expectant wife arrived at the station only just in time. The continental train came steaming into the terminus just as her brougham drew up alongside the platform, and the usual bustle and shouting of porters immediately ensued. Patricia looked about her in bewilderment, but in another moment she was surrounded by the party she sought. Sir Ferdinand and his happy young bride; Mrs. Emanuel—elated at the thought of returning to her beloved Canonbury—with her little brood; baby Julian fast asleep in the arms of the faithful Anne; and last but not least, Lionel Montella, looking pale and somewhat thin, but happy withal. Patricia received her husband’s embrace in silence, unable to say a word; but he knew that her heart was full with a joy too deep for utterance, and her hand-clasp meant more to him than the choicest of flowery speeches. It was not until they had parted from the others, and were driving back to Richmond, that she remembered a non-arrival amongst the party. “I thought Zillah Lorm intended to come, too,” she said half wonderingly. “Did she leave you on the way?” Montella exchanged a glance with Anne. “Yes, darling, she left us on the way,” he returned, with a sigh. “Poor Zillah! It is very sad.” Something in his tone arrested the girl’s attention. “What do you mean, dear?” she asked, with hesitation. “Is anything wrong?” “The poor unfortunate woman threw herself overboard soon after we left Port Said, my lady,” said Anne, as her master did not reply. “She was drowned almost before anyone knew, and the Lascars tried in vain to recover her body. Oh, dear, what excitement there was on the boat! We were all that upset we could talk of nothing else for days, she being such a comely young person and all!” “So I should think. But how dreadful! Poor girl!” Her eyes filled. “What made her put such a terrible end to her life? Was she unhappy?” “I am afraid so, dear,” replied Montella quietly. “She seemed to have no aim in life, and to find everything as Dead Sea fruit. She was always pessimistic and despondent. I believe she wanted to return to England some months ago, and only remained for my mother’s sake; yet when we eventually started, she expressed no pleasure at the thought of going home. On board the vessel she became engaged to an English officer, but quarrelled with him the night before her death. Whether that had anything to do with her suicide, however, we shall never know. It is unspeakably sad.”