At dawn of the next day she was pacing backwards and forwards at the junction where the train from the West was to be met. She paid no attention to her few fellow-travellers, in whom, however, her self-absorption added to the interest and curiosity she aroused as she swept by them in her restless walk to and fro, with her long white fur cloak thrown back over her shoulders, and her loose hair and floating veil tangled together below her fur cap. In her large, wide-opened eyes, and in the whole face, there was the tense expression of overwrought emotion and exhaustion. In her walk she several times passed a tall lady, very simply dressed, who was looking intently into the luggage van, round which a busy little group had collected. Once, just as Theresa passed the group, an officer came up and spoke a few words to the lady, and in answer to a question addressed to him by one of the railway officials, replied with the word "Mansana." The princess started. "Mansana?" she cried. "What----" "Princess Leaney?" exclaimed the officer, in accents of astonishment, as he saluted her. "Is it you, Major Sardi?" she answered, and added hastily: "But Mansana? What of him? You mentioned his name." "Yes. This is his mother." The Major presented the younger lady to the elder. As the mother drew her veil aside, the calm, noble face that was revealed filled Theresa with an instant sense of confidence and strength. She threw herself into the lady's arms as if she had found there a haven of refuge from all her storms of anxiety and distress, and burst into a convulsive fit of weeping. The Signora Mansana said nothing, but she soothed the agitated girl with a few gentle and caressing touches of her hand, and stood waiting quietly till her passion had spent itself and she had regained her self-possession. Presently Theresa was sufficiently composed to ask where Mansana was. "That," answered the elder lady calmly, "we none of us know." "But we hope to find out before long," added the Major. White as a sheet, Theresa sprang up, and looked from one to another. "Tell me," she cried; "what is it that has happened?" Thoughtful and composed, the older woman, who had been through so much of storm and stress, said quietly: "We have the same journey before us, I imagine. Let us get a carriage to ourselves, and then we can talk matters over, and consider what is best to be done." The suggestion was gratefully accepted and acted upon. CHAPTER XIII