on the 25th, that is, to-day. But it may not be till late in
the evening.'

With this she started, and reached Warborne in time for the up-train. How
much longer than it really is a long journey can seem to be, was fully
learnt by the unhappy Viviette that day. The changeful procession of
country seats past which she was dragged, the names and memories of their
owners, had no points of interest for her now. She reached Southampton
about midday, and drove straight to the docks.

On approaching the gates she was met by a crowd of people and vehicles
coming out--men, women, children, porters, police, cabs, and carts. The
Occidental had just sailed.

The adverse intelligence came upon her with such odds after her morning's
tension that she could scarcely crawl back to the cab which had brought
her. But this was not a time to succumb. As she had no luggage she
dismissed the man, and, without any real consciousness of what she was
doing, crept away and sat down on a pile of merchandise.

After long thinking her case assumed a more hopeful complexion. Much
might probably be done towards communicating with him in the time at her
command. The obvious step to this end, which she should have thought of
sooner, would be to go to his grandmother in Welland Bottom, and there
obtain his itinerary in detail--no doubt well known to Mrs. Martin. There
was no leisure for her to consider longer if she would be home again that
night; and returning to the railway she waited on a seat without eating
or drinking till a train was ready to take her back.

By the time she again stood in Warborne the sun rested his chin upon the
meadows, and enveloped the distant outline of the Rings-Hill column in
his humid rays. Hiring an empty fly that chanced to be at the station
she was driven through the little town onward to Welland, which she
approached about eight o'clock. At her request the man set her down at
the entrance to the park, and when he was out of sight, instead of
pursuing her way to the House, she went along the high road in the
direction of Mrs. Martin's.

Dusk was drawing on, and the bats were wheeling over the green basin
called Welland Bottom by the time she arrived; and had any other errand
instigated her call she would have postponed it till the morrow. Nobody
responded to her knock, but she could hear footsteps going hither and
thither upstairs, and dull noises as of articles moved from their places.
She knocked ag