Mary cast her eyes round, and saw nothing of her own.  She stood apart, while the Willis family were in all the rapture of the meeting; she saw them moving off, too happy and sufficient for themselves even to remember her.  She had a dull, heavy sensation that she must bear all, and this was the beginning; and she was about to begin her arrangements for her dreary landing, when Mrs. Willis’s brother, Mr. Ward, turned back.  He was a middle-aged merchant, whom her mother had much liked and esteemed, and there was something cheering in his frank, hearty greeting, and satisfaction in seeing her.  It was more like a welcome, and it brought the Willises back, shocked at having forgotten her in the selfishness of their own joy; but they had made sure that she had been met.  Mr. Ward did not think that she was expected by the Valdivia; Mr. Ponsonby had not mentioned it as likely.  So they were all seated in the boat, with the black rowers; and while the Willises fondled their children, and exchanged home-news, Mr. Ward sat by Mary, and spoke to her kindly, not openly referring to the state of her home, but showing a warmth and consideration which evinced much delicate sympathy.

They all drove together in the Willises’ carriage up the sloping road from Callao to Lima, and Mary heard astonishment, such as she had once felt, breaking out in screams from the children at the sight of omnibuses filled with gaily-dressed negroes, and brown horsewomen in Panama hats and lace-edged trousers careering down the road.  But then, her father had come and fetched her from on board, and that dear mamma was waiting in the carriage!  They entered the old walled town when twilight had already closed in, and Mrs. Willis was anxious to take her tired little ones home at once.  They were set down at their own door; but Mr. Ward, with protecting anxious kindness, insisted on seeing Miss Ponsonby safely home before he would join them.  As they drove through the dark streets, Mary heard a little restless movement, betraying some embarrassment; and at last, with an evident desire of reassuring her, he said, ’Senora Rosita is thought very pleasing and engaging;’ and then, as if willing to change the subject, he hastily added, ’I suppose you did not speak the Pizarro?’

‘No.’

’She has sailed about three weeks.  She takes home your cousin, Mr. Dynevor.’

Mary cried out with surprise.

’I thought him a complete fixture, but he is gone home for a year.  It seems his family property was in the market, and he was anxious to secure it.’

‘How glad his mother will be!’ was all Mary could say, as there rushed over her the thought of the wonderful changes this would make in Dynevor Terrace.  Her first feeling was that she must tell Louis; her second, that two oceans were between them; and then she thought of Aunt Catharine having lived, after all, to see her son.