Miss Ingate returned the child was fast asleep. Miss Ingate was paler
than usual. Having convinced herself that the sleeper did genuinely sleep,
she breathed to Audrey:

"He's in the next compartment! ... He must have hidden himself till nearly
the last minute on the boat and then got into the train while we were
sending off that telegram."

Audrey blenched.

"Shall you wake her?"

"Wake her, and have a scene--with us here? No, I shan't. He's a fool."

"How d'you know?" asked Audrey.

"Well, he must have been a fool to marry her."

"Well," whispered Audrey. "If I'd been a man I'd have married that face
like a shot."

"It might be all right if he'd only married the face. But he's married what
she calls her mind."

"Is he young?"

"Yes. And as good-looking in his own way as she is."

"Well--"

But the Countess of Southminster stirred, and the slight movement stopped
conversation.

The journey was endless, but it was no longer than the sleep of the
Countess. At length dusk and mist began to gather in the hollows of the
land; stations succeeded one another more frequently. The reflections of
the electric lights in the compartment could be seen beyond the glass of
the windows. The train still ruthlessly clattered and shook and swayed and
thundered; and weary lords, ladies and financiers had read all the
illustrated magazines and six-penny novels in existence, and they lolled
exhausted and bored amid the debris of literature and light refreshments.
Then the speed of the convoy slackened, and Audrey, looking forth, saw a
pale cathedral dome resting aloft amid dark clouds. It was a magical
glimpse, and it was the first glimpse of Paris. "Oh!" cried Audrey, far
more like a girl than a widow. The train rattled through defiles of high
twinkling houses, roared under bridges, screeched, threaded forests of cold
blue lamps, and at last came to rest under a black echoing vault.

Paris!

And, mysteriously, all Audrey's illusions concerning France had been born
again. She was convinced that Paris could not fail to be paradisiacal.

Lady Southminster awoke.

Almost simultaneously a young man very well dressed passed along the
corridor. Lady Southminster, with an awful start, seized her bag and sprang
after him, but was impeded by other passengers. She caught him only after
he had descended to the platform, which was at the bottom of a precipice
below the windows. He had just been saluted by, and given orders to, a