Yes. Joy was turning into dead sea fruit. How moving her thoughts had been when coming up to meet him! The marvel of love creating life had exalted her and she had longed to pour her tender visionings into the ears of--her lover! For John had been thus enshrined in her fond imagination! The whole idea of having a child to her was a sacred wonder with little of earth in it, and she had woven exquisite sentiment round it and had dreamed fair dreams of how she would whisper her thoughts to John as she lay clasped to his heart; and John, too, would be thrilled with exaltation, for was not the glorious mystery his as well--not hers alone? Now everything looked grey. Tears rose in her eyes. Then she took herself to task; it was perhaps only her foolish romance leading her astray once more. The thought might mean nothing to a man beyond the pride of having a son to carry on his name. If the baby should be a little girl John might not care for it at all! The tears brimmed over and fell upon a big crimson carnation in her coat, a bunch of which John had ordered to be sent her, and which were now safely reposing in a card-board box in the rack above her head. Fortunately she had the carriage to herself. No one had attempted to get in, and they would soon be off. To be away from London would be a relief. Then her thoughts flew to Verisschenzko; he had told her that circumstances in his country might require his frequent presence in England for the next few months. She would see him again. What would he tell her to do now? Conquer emotion and look at things with common sense. The picture of the dinner at the Carlton then came back to her, and the face of Denzil across the table, so like, and yet so unlike John! If Denzil had a wife would he be cold to her? Was it in the nature of all Ardayres? At the very instant the train began to move the carriage was invaded by a man in khaki who bounded in and almost fell by her knees, and with a cheery 'Just done it, Sir!' the guard flung in a dressing-bag and slammed the door, and she realised with conscious interest that the intruder was Denzil Ardayre! "How do you do? By Jove. I am awfully sorry," and he held out his hand. "I nearly lost the train and I am afraid I have bundled in without asking leave. I am going down to Bath to say good-bye to my mother. I say, do forgive me if I startled you," and he looked full of concern. Amaryllis laughed; she was nervous and overstrung. "Your entrance was certainly sudden and in this non-stop to Westbury we shall have to put up with each other till then--shall you mind?" "Awfully--Must I say that the truth would be that I am enchanted!" Fortune had flung him these two hours. He had not planned them, his conscience was clear, and he could not help delight rushing through him. Two hours with her--alone!