On a fresh, showery April afternoon when all London looked renewed and beautified by soft air and fitful brilliant sunshine, she alighted from the train at Charing Cross. Her arrival in the lofty, unfamiliar station was very different from her arrival at the bustling, exciting Parisian terminus two months earlier. Then, she had descended from her train with the rapidity of one who sees in the least promising object the hope--if not the certainty--of interest; now, she left her carriage with the quiet indifference to outward circumstance that acquaintance with society teaches. Unconsciously she had learned to move as the women of the world move--the women who know themselves possessed of a certain value, and are faintly flattered, faintly amused, perhaps faintly wearied by the knowledge. As she walked down the platform a momentary glimmering of disappointment crossed her face; and she turned to Simonetta who had come hurrying towards her. "I thought Lady Frances would have met us," she said. "But I suppose she is waiting at the flat." Simonetta looked up solicitously at her mistress. "And the signora?" she hazarded. "She is not tired?" Clodagh smiled a little absently. "Oh no, Simonetta! You must not trouble about me. I have come home, you know!" She gave a little laugh. "But we must not delay," she added. "Have you the keys of all the boxes?" "Yes, signora." "Then you can see to the examining of the luggage. When it is done, this porter will put you into a cab. I have given him the address." "Yes, signora." "Then I shall see you at the flat?" "Yes, signora." Clodagh smiled again; and, turning away, wended her way through the crowd of passengers surrounded by eager relatives and friends. Reaching the courtyard of the station, she unostentatiously hailed a hansom, and, having given her new address to the cabman, took her seat. A moment later, the cab swung out into London--became one with the concourse of traffic that, in the season, seems to overflow the streets. For the instant Clodagh felt herself merged in the teeming life, which the open doors of the vehicle permitted to approach so nearly; for the instant she stifled the sense of isolation that had been slowly gathering force. And, leaning forward in her seat, fixed her attention upon the passing scene.