Janet looked at her, a long, searching look. "It's curious, but I always knew this would come. When I saw you sitting together at supper that first night, I knew then. All the time I knew it in my heart, but on the surface it seemed ridiculous, for you never met!" "Never that you did not know, except one time in the park. There was nothing to tell you, Janet; nothing to hide." "No. So he said. We talked of you in Scotland, you know, and it was just as I thought--a case of recognising each other at first sight. He said the moment he saw you you seemed different from everyone else, and he hoped and believed that you felt the same. That is how people ought to love; the right way, when both are attached, both feel the same... And it is so rare. Yet you _refused_!" "Would you marry a man if his family disapproved?" "Oh, yes! I should not be marrying the family. I'd be sorry, of course, but I'd make up my mind that in time I'd make them fall in love with me, too. What are you going to do now?" "Going away. Into the country. I want to be quiet, and think." Janet did not ask the address. She sat silent, staring into space, then asked a sudden irrelevant question: "Did he send you the cuckoo clock?" "I--think so! It had no name, but it came from Switzerland while he was there. He has never referred to it since." "Ah!" Janet began pulling on her gloves. "I knew that, too. I _felt_ that he had sent it. Well! I must go. It will all come right, of course, and you will be very happy. I've known Erskine so long, and his wife is sure to be happy." Janet forced an artificial little laugh. "You will be engaged before me, after all, but I dare say I shall soon follow suit. It's nice to be loved. As one grows older, one appreciates it more. And Captain Humphreys is a good man." "He is splendid! I loved his face. And he is so devoted to you. It was quite beautiful to watch him," cried Claire, thankful from her heart to be able to enthuse honestly. A load was lifted from her heart by Janet's prophecy of her own future. For the moment it had no doubt been made more out of bravado than any real conviction, and inevitably there must be a period of suffering, but Janet was of a naturally buoyant nature, and her wounded spirit would gradually find consolation in the love which had waited so patiently for its reward. It needed no great gift of prophecy to see her in the future, a happy, contented wife. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. EASIER TO DIE. When Janet had taken her departure Claire looked at the clock and found that it was time to start for the hospital. She went out of the station, and, passing a shop for flowers and fruit went in, spent ten shillings in the filling of a reed basket, and, leaving the shop, seated herself in one of the taxis which were standing in readiness outside the great porch. Such carelessness of money was a natural reversion to habit, which came as a consequence of her absorbed mind.