It was all over--the fun, the gaiety, the good things of life, the delights of fine living, the charm of being with rich friends. It is true that Annie Brooke returned to England with a little private fund of her own in her pocket; but John Saxon insisted on her returning him the two five-pound notes he had enclosed to her. Out of these he paid for her ticket back to England. John Saxon was a very cold, silent, and unsympathetic fellow-traveller. He sat moodily in a corner, wrapped in his greatcoat, the collar of which he turned up; a travelling-cap came well down over his head, so that Annie could see little or nothing of his face. He had done what he could to make her comfortable, and had wrapped her round with warm things. Then he had taken no further notice of her. On the whole, Priscilla Weir had a far more interesting journey to England than had that spoiled child of fortune Annie Brooke. Annie, however, was glad to be left alone. She did not want to talk to that odious man, Cousin John Saxon. But for him, life would not have been suddenly spoiled for her. She would not have been found out. She was far too clever not to be sure that Lady Lushington had found her out. Not that Lady Lushington had discovered any serious crimes to lay at her door, but then she had read her character aright, and that character was of the sort which the great lady could not tolerate. Therefore Annie was--and she knew it well--shut away from any further dealings with Mabel Lushington. Poor Mabel! How would she provide the money for Priscilla's two remaining terms at school? How would she go through a stern catechism with regard to the necklace when Annie was no longer by her side? "Everything will be discovered," thought Annie Brooke. "There is no help for it. What shall I do? And I'd managed so well and so--so cleverly. There isn't a bit of good in being clever in this world. It seems to me it's the stupid people that have the best times. Of course that idiotic old Mabel will let out the whole story before many hours are over. And then there'll be a frightful to-do, and perhaps Mabel will be sent back to Mrs Lyttelton's school--that is, if Mrs Lyttelton will receive her, which fact I very much doubt. As to me--oh, well, I'll have to hide somewhere. I hope to goodness Mr Manchuri will never tell anybody about the necklace; he faithfully promised he wouldn't and he seemed an honourable sort of man. But then, ought I to expect any one to be honourable in his dealings with me? I don't know; the world seems coming to pieces. Horrid John Saxon! How I detest him! Oh, I feel as though I could go mad!" Annie started up impatiently. She went across the carriage and opened one of the windows, putting her head out at the same time. She hoped Saxon would take some notice. She wanted him to speak to her. His silence, his apparent indifference to her, were just the sort of thing to madden the girl in her present mood.