It was a raw, damp, foggy morning. The atmosphere seemed as dense and as white as milk. No one could see a foot in advance. And Claudia wondered how the cabmen managed to get along at all.
They reached the station just as the train was about to start, and had barely time to hurry into the carriage that had been engaged for them before the whistle shrieked and they were off. Fortunately Frisbie had sent the luggage on in advance, and got it ticketed.
The carriage had four back and four front seats. Lord and Lady Vincent occupied two of the back seats, and their four servants the front ones. As they went on the fog really seemed to thicken. They traveled slowly and stopped often. And Claudia, in surprise, remarked upon these facts.
"One might as well be in a stage—for speed," she complained.
"It is the parliamentary train," he replied.
"I have heard you say that before; but I do not know what you mean by 'parliamentary' as applied to railway trains."
"It is the cheap train, the slow train, the people's train; in fact, one that, in addition to first- and second-class carriages, drags behind it an interminable length of rough cars, in which the lower orders travel," said his lordship.
"But why is it called the 'parliamentary'?"
"Because it was instituted by act of parliament for the accommodation of the people, or perhaps because it is so heavy and slow."
On they went, hour after hour, stopping every three or four miles, while the fog seemed still to condense and whiten.