Five minutes later she was in her bedroom, sitting in a low chair, crying like a very unhappy child. The letter reached Eastbourne two days before that appointed for the departure of Annabel and her father for London. They had accepted Mrs. Tyrrell's invitation to her house; Mr. Newthorpe might remain only a fortnight, or might stay through the season--but Annabel would not come back to Eastbourne before August. She said little, but her father saw with what pleasure she anticipated this change. He wondered whether it would do her good or harm. Her books lay almost unused; of late she had attended chiefly to music, in such hours as were not spent out of doors. Mr. Newthorpe's health was as far improved as he could hope it ever would be. He too looked forward to associating once more with the few friends he had in London. It was in the evening that Annabel, entering after a long drive with her father, found Paula's letter. She took it from the hall in passing to her room. At dinner she spoke very little. After the meal she said that she wished to walk over to The Chestnuts. She left her father deep in a French novel--he read much more of the lighter literature now than formerly. Mrs. Ormonde was upstairs with her children; they were singing to her; Annabel heard the choir of young voices as she entered the garden. The servant who went to announce her brought back a request that she would ascend and hear a song. She did so. The last song was to be 'Annie Laurie,' in which the children were perfect. Annabel took the offered seat without speaking, and listened. Bessie Bunce was near Mrs. Ormonde. When the song was over she said: 'I'd like to hear Miss Trent sing that again; wouldn't you, mum?' 'Yes, I should, Bessie. Perhaps we shall have her here again some day.' Mrs. Ormonde went down with Annabel to the drawing-room. She was in a happy mood to-night, and, as they descended together, she put her arm playfully about the girl's waist. 'I wonder where Mr. Grail has taken her?' she said. 'I can't get any news from Mr. Egremont. I wrote to Jersey, and behold the letter is returned to me, with 'Gone and left no address.' I wonder whether he's back in town!' 'I have some news of him,' Annabel said quietly. 'Have you?' There was no reply till they were in the drawing-room; then Annabel held out her cousin's letter. 'Will you read that?' Mrs. Ormonde complied, Annabel watching her face the while. The girl looked for indignation, for scornful disbelief; she saw something quite different. Mrs. Ormonde's hand trembled, but in a moment she had overcome all weakness. 'Sit down, dear,' she said, calmly. 'You have just received this? Yes, I see the date.' Annabel remained standing. 'Your letter is returned from Jersey,' she remarked, with steady voice. 'Paula mentions no dates. Did he go to Jersey at all?'