not thinking
of it before. She would go to the hotel at which Lady Wychcote had been
stopping. It was quite possible that they might know something at the
office. She might even find Lady Wychcote herself. Yes--she was quite
capable of doing an inconsiderate thing like this for her own
convenience. She might have stopped there for tea on the way back, and,
feeling tired, might have lingered to rest a while, not troubling to
send Sophy word. Yes, yes. It might very well be like that. Sophy had
ordered dinner for half-past eight that evening out of consideration for
her mother-in-law's habits. It was now only ten minutes past eight. Lady
Wychcote might consider it quite sufficient if she arrived in time for
dinner.

LIV

Sophy ordered the gondola, took Rosa with her, and went to the Grand
Hotel.

The head official at the bureau looked rather surprised by her
questions. Lady Wychcote? No, her ladyship was not there. She had been
there that morning, however. She had sent a message late the night
before--after twelve o'clock, in fact--to tell them to keep her luggage
at the hotel until further instructions, instead of sending it to 35 Rio
San Vio next day, as she had at first ordered.

"To keep her luggage?" Sophy interrupted blankly.

"_Si, Signora._ But I was about to explain," answered the clerk. "This
morning, about nine, Lady Wychcote came again with her railway tickets
so that we might check her luggage straight through to Paris...."

Sophy turned white.

"You must be mistaken!..." she said.

"_Ma, no, Signora--scusi_.... I am not mistaken," said the clerk
decidedly. "The tickets were through from Venice to Paris. Her ladyship
wished her luggage sent by the ten-thirty train this morning. I think
that she herself left by that train also. Shall I send for the head
porter? He will know."

"Yes, please," Sophy managed to murmur. She sank down into the nearest
chair.

The head porter came shortly. He had just returned from the station.
Yes. Lady Wychcote had left that morning on the through train for
Paris.

Sophy could not articulate for a moment. Then she said, her lips stiff
and dry:

"Was she ... was she ... alone?"

The porter replied that Miladi had been alone when he last saw her, as
she had insisted on being taken to the station an hour before the train
left. But that the tickets were for herself and her maid. So that he
supposed that the maid had joined her later. There happened to be no