Then came the peremptory telegrams summoning the wife to the bedside of her sick husband, and Otterburn, through his wife, delicately offered to accompany Lady Errington to San Remo as soon as she was ready to start. Alizon was a long time making up her mind about going, as she considered that her husband had grossly insulted her by his openly-displayed passion for Mrs. Veilsturm. Still, on calm reflection, she saw that she was to a great extent blameable for his folly, and as the death of Sammy had considerably softened her heart towards his wrong-doing, she determined to fulfil her duty as a wife and go across to the Riviera at once. The child's death had left a blank in her heart, and she felt that she must have someone to love and console her, or she would go mad in the loneliness of her grief; so with these thoughts in her heart she sent a telegram to Eustace, announcing her departure, and prepared for the journey. She accepted Otterburn's escort as far as San Remo, but promised that as soon as she was established by Guy's sick bed, Angus should return to his wife, who was to be left behind at Errington Hall. Angus agreed to this, and in company with the young man and her maid, she left Victoria Station _en route_ for the Italian Riviera. The whole journey seemed to her like a dream; the bright English landscape, which she knew so well; the breezy passage across the Channel, with the tossing waves and blue sky; Calais, with its bustling crowd of natives and tourists; the long journey through the pleasant Norman country, and then Paris, gay and glittering, where they stayed all night. Next morning again in the train rushing southward, past quaint, mediæval towns, with their high-peaked houses, over slow-flowing rivers, through ancient forests already bearing the touch of Autumn's finger--still onward, onward, till they reached Marseilles, sitting by the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Afterwards they continued their journey through smiling Provence, along the sunny Riviera--Cannes, Mentone, Nice, all passed in their turn; a glimpse of Monte Carlo, where the Goddess of Play sits enthroned on high--palm-crowned Bordighera--deserted Ospedaletti, with its lonely Casino--and at last San Remo, amid her grey olive-groves, at the foot of the blue hills. Eustace was waiting for them at the railway-station, looking very grave, and bowed silently to Lady Errington, as she stepped out of the carriage. "Is he better?" she asked, looking haggardly at him, a tall slender figure in her sweeping black robes. "I'm afraid not--still we hope for the best."