Lesbia went to bed early in the Morwoods' pretty spare bedroom, hastily got ready for her reception. She had hardly slept during the two previous nights so she was utterly weary, too tired almost to think. Her uppermost feeling as her head nestled on the frilled linen pillow-case was one of intense thankfulness that she was not in cabin 59 on the _Roumania_. Her bed was steady and the room airy. The wind was blowing a gale outside, and she pictured the steamer tossing on the waves, with portholes carefully closed. She wondered how the children were getting on--the children whom she had so suddenly deserted. "I suppose Minnie'll go and sleep with them," she thought, stifling a voice within her that was beginning to ask certain uncomfortable questions. "I expect Bunty would give my letter to Paul as soon as they missed me. If not they'd find it in her pocket at bedtime. I wonder what they said? No, I don't! I just want to forget all about it and go to sleep." Next morning, immediately after breakfast, Mrs. Morwood dispatched her unexpected guest to Mrs Patterson, who, she considered, ought to take charge of her. The Pattersons lived at Morton Common, a suburb on the opposite side of the city, and Lesbia went there in the tram-car. She had plenty of time for reflection upon the journey. After her experience with the Morwoods she was rather doubtful about her reception. Mrs. Morwood had plainly shown her strong disapproval, and Marion, though she was quite kind, had been frankly embarrassed. Lesbia was beginning to learn there was such a thing as "counting without one's host". She walked very solemnly into the gate of 28 Park Road, and gave a timid ring at the door bell. Mrs. Patterson's amazement and condemnation were even more sweeping than Mrs. Morwood's. Being a relation she could speak her mind freely. "How _could_ you do such an absolutely idiotic thing, Lesbia? You've forfeited your passage. Dear me! I hardly know what's to be done. Paul and Minnie will be in such a state of mind about it!" "I didn't want to go to Canada," sobbed Lesbia, whose tears were painfully near the surface this morning; "you said it was a pity for me to go, and you could have taken me in easily, so I came back." Mrs. Patterson looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I could have taken you if I had arranged it with Paul Hilton," she replied. "But I never expected you to run away in this mad fashion. Well, I suppose we must send a telegram and see what can be done. You've no clothes except the few things in that case? Of course, they would all be in your cabin trunk. The girls must lend you what they can." When Mr. Patterson arrived home at lunch time he discussed the matter with his wife, and dispatched a wireless message to the _Roumania_, telling Mr. Hilton of his stepsister's whereabouts. He received the reply: "Keep Lesbia. Writing." So there was nothing more to be done until a letter could arrive.