No time-table was forthcoming, however, and they were forced to resign themselves to waiting till they reached Southampton.
Mrs. Allingford bore up bravely, and even tried to make conversation; but it proved to be a dreary ride, and when they drew up at their destination they were both exceedingly thankful.
"Is there a train back to Basingstoke soon?" asked Scarsdale of the first railway porter he saw.
"Yes, sir, over there on the left. Express leaves in three or four minutes," replied that individual, as he hurried away with somebody else's baggage.
"I'll take you over," said Scarsdale.
"No," replied his companion, "I can find it. You attend to the telegram and my luggage."
He dashed off accordingly, and when he returned they both entered the train on the left.
"I've sent the telegram," he said, "and I have also discovered your destination."
"How?" she inquired.
"By the labels on the luggage. It was marked for Bournemouth, and a jolly hard time I had to induce them to take it out of the van and send it back with us."