Joan reached town in safety. Willie Hood called for her box as he had promised, and conveyed it to the station before anybody at the inn was up, whither she followed after breakfast. It gave Joan a new and strange sensation to sit opposite her aunt, who took the opportunity of a _têteàtête_ to scold and grumble at her from one end of the meal to the other, and to reflect that they were about to separate, for aught she knew, never to meet again. She could not pretend any affection for Mrs. Gillingwater, and yet the thought moved her, for after all she belonged to the familiar round of daily life from which Joan was about to cut herself adrift. Still more did it move her, yes, even to silent tears, when for the last time she looked upon the ancient room that had been hers, and in which she had nursed Henry back to health. Here every chair and picture was an old friend, and, what is more, connected with his presence, the presence which to-day she finally refused. In turning her back upon that room she forsook all hope of seeing him again, and not till she had closed its door behind her did she learn how bitter was this renunciation. Finding her luggage at the station, she saw it labelled, and took her seat in the train. Just as it was about to start Willie Hood sauntered up. “Oh! there you are, Joan Haste,” he said. “I thought that you would be following your box, so I’ve just dropped round to say good-bye to you. Good-bye, Joan: I hope that you will have a pleasant time up in London. Let me know your address, and I shouldn’t wonder if I looked you up there one day, for somehow I don’t feel as though there were room for another smart young man in Bradmouth, and the old place won’t seem the same without you. Perhaps, as you ain’t going to marry him after all,” and Willie jerked his red head in the direction of Rosham, “if you’ll have the patience to wait a year or two, we might set up together yonder in the grocery line.” “You impudent young monkey!” said Joan, laughing in spite of herself; and then the train steamed off, leaving Master Willie on the platform, kissing his hand in the direction of her carriage. On arriving at Liverpool Street, Joan took a cab and directed the man to Kent Street, Paddington, whither she came after a drive that seemed interminable.