“My dear,” she said, “I am not finding fault, or chiding you, it is only natural that you should be surprised, but you will find a great deal more to be surprised at when we get to London.”
Una inclined her head as she mentally registered a resolution to conceal, at any cost, any surprise or alarm she might feel on the rest of the journey.
Nevertheless, she kept very close to Mrs. Davenant as they passed to the train, and shrank back into the corner of the carriage driven there by the stupid stare of one or two of the passengers.
“Now we are all right,” said Mrs. Davenant, gently. “We shall not sleep now till we get to town.”
“To London—we are going to London?” asked Una in a low voice.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Davenant. “That is where I live; I live in a great square at the West-end.”
“I know the points of the compass,” said Una, with a smile; “my father taught me,” and she sighed—“poor father!”
“I think your father must be a very clever man, my dear. He appears to have taught you a great deal—I mean”—she hesitated—“you speak so correctly.”
“Do I?” said Una. “Yes, my father is very clever. He knows everything.”
“It is very curious,” she said. “I mean—I hope you won’t be offended—but men in his position are not generally so well informed.”