"I thought I would wait for you, my dear. It is a pity to trouble you to call when you must have so many engagements. It is only a matter of a couple of words."
"Then I must get you to come round to the booking office," said Gertrude, trying to hide her annoyance, "for I have little Maud waiting for me, and she will think I am never coming back."
They passed down the steps and up the other side to the booking office, and Gertrude, entering first, went quickly to the corner where she had left her little sister.
"Well, Maudie!" she said cheerfully, "did you think I——"
She stopped short, aghast. There was the wheel chair, just as she had left it, but it was empty. Little Maud was not there.
"Maud!" she said, looking round into every corner as if the child might be hiding. "Maud! wherever are you?"
There was no answer. The office was empty except for the wheel chair.
Gertrude glanced up and down the platform, then out at the door that stood open to the road. Then she knocked at the office door.
"Have you seen anything of my little sister?" she asked, "I left her in that chair five minutes or so ago, and I can't think what has became of her."
The clerk shook his head.