"But what took you round by Birmingham?"
"Business for Galloway. I had three or four hours' work to do for him there."
"Bother Galloway! How are the two mothers?" continued Roland, as they walked arm-in-arm down the platform. "How's everybody?"
"Yours is very well; mine is not. She has never seemed quite the thing since my father's death, Roland. Everybody else is well; and I have no end of messages for you."
They stood round the luggage-van until it was emptied. Nothing had been turned out belonging to Arthur Channing. It was as he feared--the portmanteau was not there.
"They will be sure to send it on from Birmingham by the next train," he remarked. "I shall get it in the morning."
"Where was the good of your coming by this duffing train?" cried Roland. "It's as slow as an old cart-horse. I should have taken the express."
"I could not get away before this one, Roland. Galloway made a point of my doing all there was to do."
"The cantankerous, exacting old beauty! Are his curls flourishing?"
Arthur smiled. "Channing still, but growing a little thin."