“Every little helps,” she murmured, as she responded to insistent calls from Lytton, from Camp’s Gulch, and Roseneath, sending back the proper replies, or calling them up when she had tidings to send through.
It was a busy morning over the wires. Sometimes she became confused, even a little uncertain of herself, in the strange newness of it all; but on the whole she managed very well, her natural quickness and adaptability standing her in good stead, while her determination to succeed was a great factor in her success. Noon had passed before there was a sufficient lull in the business of the day for her to find time even to open the book which she had taken at random from Mrs. Nichols’s bookshelf that morning.
But the rest of the day was comparatively easy. There were long spells of quiet time in which she read peacefully, sitting in luxurious comfort by the office fire.
The man in charge of the depot was elderly and taciturn, while the baggage-clerk, owing to the varied character of his duties, was rarely visible, save when the cars came in. But this state of things suited Nell perfectly; and if she had not missed the Lorimer children so badly, that first day at Bratley would have been marked in her memory as a red-letter day, ushering in, as it did, a new era for her.
Her book was interesting, too, being a record of the growth and greatness of the Dominion whose daughter she had become. So few new books had come her way in these last six years, and she had previously no knowledge of the big young land which, like some giant baby, was stretching its limbs and making its influence felt among the weary old nations of the world.
“I’d no idea books could be as interesting as that. It beats the dictionary,” she said to herself, with a little laugh. “But perhaps if I hadn’t been shut up to the dictionary first, I shouldn’t have been so well able to understand other books now,” she added, as a conviction came to her that perhaps those years at the Lone House had not been quite lost, after all.
“Fond of reading, are you, miss? Would you like to see a paper?” asked the conductor of the Roseneath cars, who had benefited by her kindly offices on the previous day.
He had looked in at the half-open door as he passed Nell’s business sanctum, and seeing her absorbed in a book, had sought, by the offer of a paper, to show his appreciation of her helpful kindness.
“Thank you; I should like to see it,” she answered.
But just then came a call from Lytton, and she had to take down a lot of instructions about the lading of some freight cars, which were to go right through to New Westminster.