"Half-past six—nearly an hour behind time," said a fat, rosy old gentleman, who sat opposite to Miss Vernon, "and another quarter of an hour will be lost taking the tickets—very bad, very bad," and he looked at Kate for sympathy; but to her it was a matter of indifference: the train was rather too fast for her wishes.
"They will be fancying all sorts of accidents and concussions at home," resumed the old gentleman, with a smile of such security in the affection and sympathy to which he was hastening, that the tears sprang to Kate's eyes, even while she smiled upon him, and said—
"Then I do wish they would go faster—suspense is such a terrible thing."
The old gentleman seemed struck by the sudden warmth evinced by his hitherto taciturn companion.
"I suppose you have friends to meet you?" he said; "but if I can be of any use in getting your luggage, &c., I shall be very happy."
"I suppose they will send some one to meet me," said Kate, carelessly; "but," she added, a doubt on the point glancing across her mind for the first time, "if not, I will gladly avail myself of your kind offer."
"What part of the town, may I ask, are you going to?"
"Carleton Terrace, New Park."
"Oh, indeed. I live near that myself."