Grace hung out of the window, and saw the ever tardy Miss Marsh hastening up the crowded platform, making free use of her elbows.
"I started too late—that wretched Delmege pretended I was wanted—so sorry, Gracie dear. Mind you write."
"Yes, yes. And please do all write to me when you have time, and tell me all your news. And we'll meet again next month, as soon as I get back."
The train was moving now, and only the panting and energetic Miss Marsh hastened along beside it, her hand on the carriage window.
"Good-bye, good-luck. I shall miss you dreadfully in our room. Don't be surprised if you hear that Delmege and I have had words together; that girl simply gets on my nerves."
"Stand back there, please."
"Good-bye, Gracie!"
"Good-bye."
Grace stood at the window and waved to the little group until the blue uniforms were lost to sight and only the flutter of Tony's handkerchief was still visible.
The Hostel days were over, but she would remember them always with a smile for the small hardships that had been tempered by so much kindness and merriment, and with a faithful recollection of the good companionship that work and the comradeship of workers ever had brought her.