unty were going to put
themselves. An immense wave of repulsion swept over her. She could
not--no she _could_ not be boxed up with those children all the way
across the Atlantic! It was too bad of Paul and Minnie to have brought
her. They ought to have left her behind in England. The prospect before
her was intolerable. She would give the whole world to get out of it,
and return to Kingfield. _To return to Kingfield!_ The idea struck her
with a sudden swift temptation. The Morwoods and the Pattersons had both
said they would have been glad to have her. Suppose she were to make her
escape and go back? There was still time. Friends of the passengers were
on the vessel. She could slip away amongst them unobserved. She had two
pound notes in her purse (Paul had seen to it that she was not
penniless), and that would be sufficient to pay her railway fare from
Liverpool to Kingfield. Lesbia was nothing if not impulsive. It seemed a
case of "now or never". All the Celtic side in her rushed to the fore.
She never stopped to reason, but acted on the emotion of the moment.

"I'll do it!" she whispered to herself.

Taking her writing-block and a pencil from her dispatch case, she
hastily scribbled a note.

"DEAR PAUL AND MINNIE,

"I feel I can't possibly go to Canada after all, so I am going
back to Kingfield to the Morwoods and my own relations who never
wanted me to go away. I hope you will have a nice voyage and be
happy at Belleville.

"With much love,
"LESBIA."

She put this into an envelope, addressed it to Paul, and stuffed it
inside Bunty's little pocket, where she thought it would be sure to be
found later on. Then she kissed the children, took up her dispatch case,
and fled on deck. The bell was ringing for friends to clear away from
the ship. She stepped ashore with the first consignment. A tram-car was
passing along the docks and she boarded it. By good luck it took her
straight to the station. She booked for Kingfield and inquired the time
of the next train.

"Number 5 platform. You'll just catch it if you're quick!" replied the
porter.

Lesbia had only a hazy remembrance afterwards of how she tore up the
steps and over the iron bridge to platform 5, but she somehow found
herself jumping into a third-class carriage just as the porter was
banging the doors and the guard was waving his green flag. She sank on
to a seat exhausted, and trembling in every limb. The train st