But for the close resemblance between the father and daughter, their fellow passengers in the waiting-room must have taken them for a married pair, and “o’er young to marry also.”
“But about this man, Jennie,” he said, seeing that she paused. “Where is he now?”
“In Ireland, I believe, papa. It is a long story I have to tell when we get home. And—here is our train.”
The whistle sounded, and the minister took his grandchild from his daughter and carried it, followed by its mother, to their seats in one of the second-class carriages.
CHAPTER III
HER WELCOME HOME
The curate and his daughter found themselves in a crowded carriage of the second class, on the Great Northern express train from Liverpool to Glasgow. I say crowded, for though no one was standing up, yet many of the passengers had well-grown children on their laps.
Mr. Campbell and Jennie took the last two vacant seats.
“Give me the baby now, papa dear,” said the little mother, holding opt her arms, as soon as she had settled herself in her seat.
“No, dear, the child is sleeping. If she wakes and frets, I will hand her over to you; otherwise I will hold her to rest you,” replied her father.
Their fellow travelers turned and looked at the young grandfather and the youthful mother, and very naturally drew false conclusions.