So at last the Wednesday morning came--and they could go back to England.

From that Saturday night until they left Paris Tristram's manner of icy, polite indifference to his bride never changed.

She had no more quaking shocks nor any fear of too much ardor! He avoided every possible moment of her society he could, and when forced to be with her seemed aloof and bored.
And the freezing manner of Zara was caused no longer by haughty self-defense but because she was unconsciously numb at heart.
Unknown, undreamed-of emotion came over her, whenever she chanced to find him close, and during his long absences her thoughts followed him--sometimes with wonderment.
Just as they were going down to start for the train on the Wednesday morning a telegram was put into her hand.

It was addressed "La Baronne de Tancred," and she guessed at once this would be Mimo's idea of her name.

Tristram, who was already down the steps by the concierge's desk, turned and saw her open it, with a look of intense strain.