That night she cried bitterly when alone in bed, while the conflict raged in her heart; and strangely, that night, at Omberleigh, Gaunt had the illusion that he heard her sobbing, as he had heard her upon the night when she received the news of Pansy's danger. So vivid was the impression that he got up, opened the door of her room, and stood a long moment, in the moonlight, gazing at the smooth, empty bed and the dim outlines of the furniture, before he could realise that she was not there. Next morning she wrote to him: _I am in a difficulty. Pansy is making herself unhappy about going to the sea without me. She has fretted so that Dr. Danby spoke seriously to me yesterday, asking if I could not manage to stay a few days longer just to settle her into her new surroundings. We have found rooms very near the sea, not at Cliftonville, but at Worthing. The roads there are so nice and flat that she can be wheeled out upon the Parade every day, and the doctor says as soon as she is a little stronger she will lose this silly fancy about my leaving her. I am ashamed to mention it to you, when you have done and are doing so much. I will be guided by what you wish. I had arranged definitely to go back to Omberleigh on Monday. If you think I had better keep to that date I will do so. If I may instead take Pansy to Worthing, and stay there with her till the following Friday, returning to you on Saturday, I shall be most grateful, but I feel guilty in asking for it, when I have already made such large demands upon your patience._ The answer to this letter came by telegram: _Stay as long as advisable.--Gaunt._ Tony brought this message round to the Home from Margaret Street in the course of the morning, and great, indeed, was the joy it caused. Pansy was a different creature when she learned that "that dear old trump of an Osbert was going to let Virgie come to Worthing." There was a tea-party in the little invalid's room that afternoon to celebrate the occasion. Gerald Rosenberg was present. The journey was to be made in his car, and he thought he would take a week's holiday at Worthing, and have a run round the country thereabout. It was a delightful plan, and in Virginia's eyes it had no drawbacks. She was now wholly at ease with Gerald. Since that first day, he had asked no awkward questions, trenched on no dangerous ground. He had been the best of friends, and was apparently quite content to talk to her mother for long periods during which she and Tony roamed together. Under his auspices the removal to Worthing took place most satisfactorily. The day was dull and chilly, but there was no rain, and Pansy's spirits never flagged.