"Standale! I thought she hated the place."
"The place, yes; but not the station."
"What on earth has taken her there?"
"To meet a friend."
"Man or woman?" laughed Anne.
"Indeed I never asked," replied Amy. "It was quite by accident I heard her say that unless Mr. Linchmore made haste she would not arrive in time to meet the train."
"Oh! then he has gone too. Depend upon it, it's some old 'fogy' or another; Miss Tremlow, perhaps, with her carpet bag stuffed full of yellow pocket handkerchiefs; you know," continued she, mimicking that lady's tone and manner, "this is such a damp place, and the rheumatics are worse than ever."
As Anne rode away Amy remained at the window with little Bertie, who had been brought down for inspection and approval, and duly admired and caressed.
"I wish Anne had been going to remain, Robert," said Amy, "she is so pleasant."