"I don't SEE it," admitted John, "but—"
"Bainbridge!" shouted the brakeman.
CHAPTER XIX
Desire was conscious of a brown and gabled station with a bow-window and flower-beds, a long platform where baggage trucks lumbered, the calling of taxi-men, a confused noise of greeting and farewell, and Aunt Caroline's voice uncomfortably near her ear.
"There she is!" whispered Aunt Caroline hoarsely. "Be careful! Don't look!"
"Who? Where?" asked Desire, wondering.
"Eliza Merryweather. Second to the left."
There was another confused impression of curious faces, of one face especially with eager eyes and bobbing grey curls, and then she was caught, as it were, in the swirl of Aunt Caroline and deposited, somewhat breathless, in a car which, providentially, seemed to expect her.
Miss Campion was breathing heavily but her face was calm.