She burst into tears, remembering the two frank, kind faces looking at her from the marble portico, in the afternoon sunlight, the warm welcome, the feeling of kindred which had shown itself so thoroughly in their words and looks. And they were gone--they who a month ago were full of life and gladness. The cruel inexorable sea had devoured their youth and strength and all the promises and hopes of their being. The elderly gentleman moved to the seat next hers full of compassion. 'Look at that,' she said, as Brian picked up the paper; 'my cousins, both of them.' 'I am sorry you have found bad news in the paper,' said the elderly stranger, looking at her sympathetically through his spectacles. 'My two cousins, sir,' she said, 'they have both been drowned. Such fine, honest young fellows. It is too dreadful.' 'That wreck in the Hebrides? Yes, it is a sad thing; and Sir Vernon Palliser and his brother were your cousins?' I am so sorry I showed you the paper. But I wonder you had not heard of this sooner; it was in the evening papers yesterday.' 'Then you must have known that my cousins were dead when you came to Kingthorpe last night?' said Ida, looking up at her husband. Suddenly, in a flash of memory, came back those thoughtless words of hers spoke at Les Fontaines, when her father talked of the possibility of inheriting a fortune and a baronetcy. She remembered how she had said, in bitterness of spirit, 'Of course they will live to the age of Methuselah. Whoever heard of luck coming our way?' And now this kind of luck, which meant sudden death for two amiable, open-handed young men, had come her way. How lightly she had spoken of those two young lives! how bitter had been her thoughts about the rich and happy! This thing had been known in London yesterday afternoon. It was this knowledge which had sent Brian Walford to Kingthorpe to claim his wife. She had suddenly become a wife worth claiming--the daughter of Sir Reginald Palliser of Wimperfield. 'You knew this,' she repeated, looking at her husband, with infinite scorn expressed in eye and lip. 'No, upon my soul,' he answered; 'I left town early. It flashed upon me that it was Bessie's birthday--you would be all assembled at The Knoll--there was just time for me to get there before the fun was over--don't you know--' 'And you had not seen the papers? you did _not_ know this?' added Ida, fixing him with her eyes. 'No, upon my word. I had no idea!' She knew that he was lying. 'Then it was a very curious coincidence,' she said freezingly. 'How a coincidence?' 'That after so long an absence you should happen to come to Kingthorpe on the day that made such a change in my father's fortunes.' 'I came because of Bessie's birthday--as I told you before. Does this sad event make any difference to your father?' he asked innocently. 'Are there not----nearer relatives?' 'None that I know of.'