Wishing unfortunately, however, can never carry us over the painful crises of our lives. We have to face them as best we may, and Arthur needed all his cheery confidence to sustain him during the damp walk which followed, when the Vicar tramped silently by his side, his shovel hat pulled over his eyes, his mackintosh coat flapping to and fro in the wind. They reached the station in good time, and punctually to the minute the lights of the London express were seen in the distance. The train drew up, and among the few passengers who alighted the figure of Peggy, in her scarlet trimmed hat, was easily distinguished. She was assisted out of the carriage by an elderly gentleman, in a big travelling coat, who stood by her side as she looked about for her friends. As Mr. Asplin and Arthur approached, they only heard his hearty, “Now you are all right!” and Peggy’s elegant rejoinder, “Exceedingly indebted to you for all your kindness!” Then he stepped back into the carriage, and she came forward to meet them, half shy, half smiling, “I--I am afraid that you----” “We will defer explanations, Mariquita, if you please, until we reach home. A fly is waiting. We will return as quickly as possible,” said the Vicar frigidly, and the brother and sister lagged behind as he led the way out of the station, gesticulating and whispering together in furtive fashion. “Oh, you Peggy! _Now_ you have done it! No end of a row!” “Couldn’t help it! So sorry. Had to go. Stick to me, Arthur, whatever you do!” “Like a leech! We’ll worry through somehow. Never say die!” Then the fly was reached, and they jolted home in silence. Mrs. Asplin and the four young folks were sitting waiting in the drawing-room, and each one turned an eager, excited face towards the doorway as Peggy entered, her cheeks white, but with shining eyes, and hair ruffled into little ends beneath the scarlet cap. Mrs. Asplin would have rushed forward in welcome, but a look in her husband’s face restrained her, and there was a deathlike silence in the room as he took up his position by the mantelpiece. “Mariquita,” he said slowly, “you have caused us to-night some hours of the most acute and painful anxiety which we have ever experienced. You disappeared suddenly from among us, and until ten o’clock, when your telegram arrived, we had not the faintest notion as to where you could be. The most tragic suspicions came to our minds. We have spent the evening in rushing to and fro, searching and inquiring in all directions. Mrs. Asplin has had a shock from which, I fear, she will be some time in recovering. Your brother’s pleasure in his visit has been spoiled. We await your explanation. I am at a loss to imagine any reason sufficiently good to excuse such behaviour; but I will say no more until I have heard what you have to say.”