"Is there a hotel here?" she enquired of the depot-master.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Is it far off?"
"About three-quarters of a mile up in the village."
"Can I get a carriage to convey me there?"
"Certainly, ma'am," answered the depot-master briskly. My son drives the depot carriage. There it is, near the platform.
"Peter!" he called. "Here's a lady to go to the hotel. Have you a check for your trunk, ma'am?"
Mrs. Kenyon was rather embarrassed. She had no luggage except a small bundle which she carried in her hand, and this, she feared, might look suspicious. She had a trunk of clothing at the asylum, but of course it was out of the question to send for this.
"My luggage has been delayed," she said; "it will be sent me."
"Very well, ma'am."