"I'll wager," she added, "that we have gone beyond our station."
"Oh! no."
"Very well, inquire."
"Segni-Paliano," cried a hoarse voice on the platform.
George, somewhat startled, stretched out his head, and asked: "Is this Albano?"
"No, sir, this is Segni-Paliano," answered the man with a smile. "Are you going to Albano? Then you should have alighted at Cecchina."
Hippolyte burst into such a loud peal of laughter that Mr. and Mrs. Martlet looked at her with amazement. George immediately joined in the contagious hilarity.
"What shall we do?"
"First of all, we must get out of this train."
George handed their hand-bags to a porter, while Hippolyte continued to laugh—her fresh, hearty laugh—amused at this misadventure, which she considered capital fun. Mr. Martlet looked startled at this outburst of youth, which seemed to him like a wave of sunshine, but he smiled with benevolent condescension and bowed to Hippolyte, who at heart felt a vague regret at leaving the train.