“Do you know the way?” asked the man.
[p22]
“No; but I should if you told me—I mean——”
“Yes, miss; I know what you mean,” replied the porter, noting her childish confusion. “I’ll see to her, and send her safely,” he promised the busy guard, and took her small gloved hand in his, and led her away out into the open road by the station, stretching away among fields, all bathed in crimson and golden sunshine.
“Now, miss,” said he, pointing with his finger, “you go along this road and turn to your right, and along a lane, turn to your right, and along another; don’t turn to your left at all; then turn to your right again, and there you are at Willett’s Farm. Do you understand?” he asked kindly, bending down to something like her height, so as to get her view of the way.
“Yes, thank you; I must keep to the right all the way, and turn three times—but I don’t think I quite know what a farm is like,” confessed she bravely.
“Oh, miss, that’s easy; there isn’t another house before you reach the farm—the village is above Willett’s Farm.”
“Thank you; then I’ll think I’ll go now.”
[p23]
“You’ll not lose yourself? I’d go with you, but I expect another train in almost directly, and there isn’t a soul about here that I could send. And about your box, miss: will you send for it?”
“Yes, I’ll send for it; and—and I don’t think I shall lose myself.”
“Then good evening, miss.” The porter touched his hat, and she bade him “good evening” in return; then the child went wandering down the road from the station—a blue dot in the evening sunshine.