It was the one familiar room which was always ready for her; and though the prospect from its windows changed, it was the one room she knew which had always the same look, the same cramped space, the same furniture--the one room where, the moment she stepped into it, she was at home.
Yet on this particular journey she woke while it was yet dark.

A noise slight in comparison to the clatter of the train, but distinct in character and quite near, told her at once what had disturbed her.

Some one was moving stealthily in the compartment--her daughter.

That was all.
But Mrs.Thesiger lay quite still, and, as would happen to her at times, a sudden terror gripped her by the heart.

She heard the girl beneath her, dressing very quietly, subduing the rustle of her garments, even the sound of her breathing.
"How much does she know ?" Mrs.Thesiger asked of herself; and her heart sank and she dared not answer.
The rustling ceased.