"Stand aside there," he said, severely, to a boy with a basket of newspapers.
"First stop Plymouth," shouted the porters when the express came thundering in.
"Stand aside," thundered the station-master, more loudly; perhaps he was addressing the train this time.
Mrs. Caffyn looked out of a second-class compartment and popped in again like some shy burrowing animal that fears the great world.
"What name, my lady, would be on the luggage?" asked the station-master when, notwithstanding her emersion from a second-class compartment, he had seen Mrs. Caffyn embraced by her ladyship.
"Caffyn! Caffyn!" he bellowed. "Stand aside there, will you? Both vans are being dealt with, my lady," he informed her.
The luggage was identified; a porter was bidden to carry it to No. 5 platform; and the station-master, taking from Mrs. Caffyn a string-bag in which nothing was left except a paper bag of greengages, led the way to the slow train for Cherrington.
"I traveled second-class," Mrs. Caffyn whispered, nervously, while the station-master was stamping about in a first-class compartment, dusting the leather seats and arranging the small luggage upon the rack. "I hesitated whether I ought not to travel third, but father was very nice about it."
"Please change this ticket to first-class as far as Cherrington Lanes, Mr. Thatcher," said Dorothy.
"Immediately, my lady," he announced; and as he hurried away down the platform Mrs. Caffyn regarded him as the Widow Twankay may have regarded the Genie of the Lamp.