The new-comer replied for her.
“Yes, ma’am, a friend of Miss Mulgrave’s—whether she likes it or not,” said he.
“This gentleman has been very, very kind to me,” said Freda, recovering her voice. “On the journey here I——”
“Was indebted to this good gentleman for a biscuit and a cup of tea,” chimed in the stranger’s good-humoured voice. “And unlike most ladies to whom one may chance to render a small service of the kind, she remembers it.”
“It is not always prudent for young ladies to make chance friends on the railway,” said Mrs. Staynes.
“It is convenient though, madam, in case of an accident. And perhaps the young lady had the judgment to see that there’s very little of the gay Lothario about me.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Mrs. Staynes, who thought the stranger rather flippant. “Ah, there’s the Vicar. I—er—I—— Good-morning, Miss Mulgrave.”
With a curious little salutation to the stranger, which was half a bow and half a “charity bob,” the Vicar’s wife trotted off, waving the goloshes. Nell whispered to Freda to make haste home. The girl withdrew her arm suddenly.
“You go home, Mrs. Bean,” she said. “I will come in a few minutes.”
Then she turned, in spite of Nell’s remonstrances and rejoined the stranger.