eginning! She peered into the rain, conscious
of a sort of home-coming joy. She loved the French world and the French
sights and sounds--these tall, dingy houses of the _banlieue_, the dregs
of a great architecture; the advertisements; the look of the streets.

The train slackened into the Nord Station. The blue-frocked porters
crowded into the carriages.

"C'est tout, madame? Vous n'avez pas de grands bagages?"

"No, nothing. Find me a cab at once."

There was a great crowd outside. She hurried on as quickly as she could,
revolving what was to be said if any acquaintance were to accost her. By
great good luck, and by travelling second class both in the train and on
the boat, she had avoided meeting anybody she knew. But the Nord Station
was crowded with English people, and she pushed her way through in a
nervous terror.

"Miss Le Breton!"

She turned abruptly. In the white glare of the electric lights she did
not at first recognize the man who had spoken to her. Then she drew
back. Her heart beat wildly. For she had distinguished the face of Jacob
Delafield.

He came forward to meet her as she passed the barrier at the end of the
platform, his aspect full of what seemed to her an extraordinary
animation, significance, as though she were expected.

"Miss Le Breton! What an astonishing, what a fortunate meeting! I have a
message for you from Evelyn."

"From Evelyn?" She echoed the words mechanically as she shook hands.

"Wait a moment," he said, leading her aside towards the waiting-room,
while the crowd that was going to the _douane_ passed them by. Then he
turned to Julie's porter.

"Attendez un instant."

The man sulkily shook his head, dropped Julie's bag at their feet, and
hurried off in search of a more lucrative job.

"I am going back to-night," added Delafield, hurriedly. "How strange
that I should have met you, for I have very sad news for you! Lord
Lackington had an attack this morning, from which he cannot recover. The
doctors give him perhaps forty-eight hours. He has asked for
you--urgently. The Duchess tells me so in a long telegram I had from her
to-day. But she supposed you to be in Bruges. She has wired there. You
will go back, will you not?"

"Go back?" said Julie, staring at him helplessly. "Go back to-night?"

"The evening train starts in little more than an hour. You would be just
in time, I think, to see the old man alive."

She still looked at him in bewilderment, at the blue ey