Once she had pledged herself to Mario, there seemed no valid reason for delay, while there were many for haste. The sooner he returned to Italy, the better their prospects. But he would not suffer a parting. He was afraid of losing her. And Joanna was glad of his refusal; for she shared his fear, shared it strangely on his account. “If he goes away he’ll never get me!” was her scarce articulate thought. So they both conspired in doing away with the inevitable obstacles.

And soon their haste, which to their small circle had at first seemed the height of unreason, assumed an air almost of common sense. It was a little sudden perhaps, but after all the circumstances were exceptional.

As for Juley, in the turn things had taken she perceived the finger of God. Of late she had been conscious of Joanna’s restless lassitude. But from any appeal for confidence the girl had at once recoiled farther than ever into herself. To pray and sorrow in private, then, was all the mother could do. And might not Mario be God’s answer? One must have faith. Had Sholto been alive, all would have been different.

VIII

In Glasgow at the moment the Bannermans were awkwardly placed for a pastor, so after much talk it was decided that the wedding should take place in London. Mario went on first to arrange matters with the Italian Consul, who was a friend; and Joanna followed with her mother.

They so nearly missed the London train that it had begun to move before they were on board. Juley, worn out by the rush, sank down at once in the carriage; but Joanna stayed in the corridor, and hung out of the window to say good-bye to her brothers.

Linnet, rushing alongside, thrust something into her hand – something small wrapped in tissue paper.

“That’s my present,” he panted. “I hadn’t any money, but I thought you’d be able to wear this. You’d better not tell mother. She might be vexed.”

Joanna clutched the little packet, and nodded and smiled. She couldn’t see for tears. The train ran faster and Linnet stopped. He waved his cap up and down in a queer, jerky way, as if shy of moving his arms in public. Farther down the platform stood Sholto, making wide gestures with two handkerchiefs. He had been learning signalling in his cadet corps at school.