"I am Hetty Saunders. I am going to London to spend the last days of my holiday with my brother. But I can spare the time to help you a little, you know. Let us forget that I am a stranger."
And with true womanly capableness she took the management of affairs into her own hands, drawing Mrs. Hayling on to tell her all she would about her little Willie—and something, too, of Boxer, the gentle, clever Scotch collie.
Half an hour ago they had both been with her. Where were they now?
Let us go back and look at the other side of this little story—Willie and Boxer's side.
They were both of an inquiring turn of mind. This was only their second railway journey; and it was not, therefore, very wonderful that Willie's fingers and Boxer's sharp, inquisitive nose, seemed determined to examine everything.
You can guess that it was with no small relief that Mrs. Hayling saw her little son's round blue eyes grow dim with sleep, as she tucked him up—for the sixth time at least—in the thick railway rug, and told Boxer to lie down beside him.
But it was quite a long time after Willie's mouth opened, to let out some not unmusical snores, that Mrs. Hayling's thoughts were hushed into quiet dreams.
Mothers have so many things to think about and puzzle over!
About four o'clock her little son suddenly opened his eyes, and as suddenly remembered where he was.
He was wide awake!