Then came an awful minute. The signal was down. The electric bell had sounded, “ding-dong, ding-dong” went the porter’s handbell. “Andrew!” I shouted (it seemed to me a shill, frantic cry, but it can scarcely have been, for he only said, “All right, sir,” and no one else looked round), then I saw the steam-cloud and the black engine-front, and rattle-rattle the train came slowly nearer and alongside, how slowly! Was tortoise ever so abominably languid in its creepings? No one there! That was my first belief. I went up and down by the first-class carriages, then someone touched me on the shoulder—Sir David. “They put us at the wrong end,” he said. How jovial he looked in his shooting suit! “Oh, yes, we’ve all come.” What more he said I don’t know. I turned and saw _her_ wrapped up in a cloak, her face so pale, sweet and wistful under a heavy black hat; just a little colour came to her lips as our eyes met, and I took her hand upon my arm. Her touch strengthened me. I cooled down and was able to behave decently, respectably. Ralph appeared—Mrs. Mervyn had sent him, I suppose—and Mr. Mervyn came out of the booking-office. I never was more delighted to see them in my life; for Lady Forwood preferred the waggonette, and I gave her and the prince and the other men over to Mervyn, and was thus able to drive home opposite _her_ and Lady Boisville. Lady Boisville, good-natured soul, was pleased with everything. “What white sand, what purple heather, what very _majestic_ pines, Dr. Paull!” she said, looking at the dear old trees through her eye-glass. But, my _darling_, what did _she_ say, or think? Would she recognise? Would some gleam of a soul-memory beyond our knowledge and power of understanding show itself? I watched her narrowly, breathlessly. As the shadows flitted across her face, I fancied I saw a troubled expression in her eyes. It vanished as she looked at me. She smiled. “Can I walk here, some day?” she asked me. I replied that “she must do exactly as she pleased.” I wished her to understand that while she was in my domain, she was its queen. She laughed—a laugh which chilled me, for it was Lilia’s laugh. Those two women, so utterly unlike in outline, feature, colouring, laughed alike. One physical detail in common—one only! Arrived home, mammy welcomed her so warmly, in so motherly a way, I felt grateful. The ladies disappeared to their rooms. A cloud obscured the sunshine. Then came the prince, and Forwood, and the valets and maids, and the rest of the inevitable paraphernalia. Well! if you have the pearl, I suppose you must take the oystershell as well.