"She won't thank you for this lot," he answered. "Cricket, The Sportsman, The Sporting Life, The Pink 'Un, A Life of W. G. Grace, The Topical Times, Pick-me-up, The Pelican,—by Jove she will have something to tell your people when she gets home."
"It's that boy at the bookstall," I said, "let's go and change some of them, though I believe you have only picked out the ones which Mrs Faulkner wouldn't read. I let the boy choose what he liked."
We made the bundle look as respectable as we could, and started down the platform, but before we got to the bookstall we saw Mrs. Faulkner, Nina and Jack Ward.
"Oh, here you are at last," Nina said, "if it hadn't been for Mr. Ward I don't know what we should have done with our luggage."
"If it hadn't been for Mr. Ward we should not only have lost our luggage but yourself, my dear," Mrs. Faulkner exclaimed, and she put her hand on Nina's arm.
"I am sure we are horribly obliged to you, Jack," I said, for I had to say something.
"I hope you won't catch cold," Fred said to Nina.
"Thanks, I think I shall be all right now," she answered.
"It is the terrible nervous shock which may be disastrous," Mrs. Faulkner remarked.
"Won't you have some tea?" I asked, and it seemed to me that I was always asking Mrs. Faulkner to have tea when I didn't know what to do with her.