CHAPTER XXVII. — ADVENTURES—AND HOME AGAIN.
The girls now went straight to the railway station; the hour was a quarter to twelve. They entered and asked at once if there was a train up to town. Yes; the last train would be due in ten minutes. Molly now took the management of affairs; she purchased a third-class ticket for herself and another for Nora.
“If we go third-class we shall not be specially remarked,” she said. “People always notice girls who travel first-class.”
The tickets being bought, the girls stood side by side on the platform. Molly had put on her shabbiest hat and oldest jacket; her gloves had some holes in them; her umbrella was rolled up in such a thick, ungainly fashion that it looked like a gamp. Nora, however, exquisitely neat and trim, stood by her companion's side, betraying as she did so traces of her good birth and breeding.
“You must untidy yourself a bit when we get into the train,” said Molly. “I'll manage it.”
“Oh, never mind about my looks; the thing is to get off,” said Nora. “I'm not a scrap afraid,” she added; “if Aunt Grace came to me now she could not induce me to turn back; nothing but force would make me. I have got the money, and to Ireland I will go.”
“I admire you for your determination,” said Molly. “I never knew that an Irish girl could have so much spunk in her.”
“And why not? Aren't we about the finest race on God's earth?”