The girl straightened herself and raised her hand with a pretty,
imperious gesture.
"One moment, please," she said, "but are you going to the village?"
"Yes, Miss," said the driver, "to the station. Was there anything--"
She opened a bag at her side and took out carelessly a small gold
piece.
"My little friend here," she said, in an even, low voice, "was
showing me this beautiful building and grounds and I utterly
neglected to note the time. I fear I have lost my train, if we try
to walk back. If you could take us--"
"Certainly, Miss," said the driver. "William, put the young lady's
wheel on top. Was it the express you wanted, Miss? I'm to meet
it--the 2.08. Party from Boston."
They climbed in, the bicycle settled noisily into the trunk-rack on
top, and the big chestnuts pounded down the hill.
Joan stared straight before her. Presently she drew a pair of black
gloves from her little bag and put them on. Her lips moved steadily,
and Caroline knew from her closed eyes that she was praying.
They drew into the neat station as the train Snorted itself in. The
girl handed the gold piece to the driver.
"Divide it, please," she said calmly. "I am much obliged."
She walked to the drawing-room car, and signaled the black porter.
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