The woman smiled, not at all affronted by the lack of courtesy shown her.
“I make many things my affairs,” she said sweetly. “I think it my duty when I see a girl as young as you doing what is not right to remind her, in a spirit of love and tenderness, of her error. I am sorry if my suggestion can not be received in the spirit in which it was given.” Then she went back to her place.
From the conversation of the two girls, Elizabeth caught such expressions as “that class of people,” “counting each penny,” “bound down by poverty,” and similar phrases.
The train had started on its way. A half-mile passed before it again slowed up. “This is Gleasonton,” said the lady, arising and coming to Mrs. Koons to assist her with the children. With a farewell nod and smile to Elizabeth, they quitted the car. From the window she saw them try to make their way through the crowd of loafers which had gathered about the platform. Suddenly a young colored boy in snuff-colored suit and high hat appeared. He immediately took charge of the children, and with them in his arms pushed his way to where a carriage stood at the curb, the women following close at his heels.
As the train pulled out, Elizabeth saw them bowling down the country road in a wide-open barouche, with coachman and footman in livery.
It was not long until the trainman called “Exeter!” Elizabeth gathered up her wraps and magazines. She knew that she might expect a carriage from the Hall at the station to meet the students.
Landis and Min had also gathered together their belongings. As the train drew into the station, they were first on the platform.
“There’s Jimmy Jordan!” they cried together, as a young colored boy with an expansive grin came up to take their luggage.
“Jimmy, how’s the Hall?”
Jimmy responded with a grin just a little more expansive than the previous one.