Yes, that she would do. But the train arrived in London at 7 A.M. And she could not possibly see Miss Eustace before ten or eleven. She must just sit in the waiting-room till it was time. And she must get some money. She had her cheque-book and would ask Sir William to tell her how to get a cheque cashed in London. She was ashamed of her own ignorance in these small practical matters.
The motor stopped. Sir William jumped down, but before he came to open the door for her, she saw him turn round and wave his hand to two persons standing outside the station. They hurried towards the motor, and as Nelly stepped down from it, she felt herself grasped by eager hands.
'You poor darling! I thought we couldn't be in time. But we flew. Don't trouble about anything. We've done it all.'
Cicely!—and behind her Marsworth.
Nelly drew back.
'Dear Cicely!' she said faintly—'but I can manage—I can manage quite well.'
Resistance, however, was useless. Marsworth and Cicely, it seemed, were going to London with her—Cicely probably to France; and Marsworth had already telegraphed about her passport. She would have gladly gone by herself, but she finally surrendered—for George's sake, that she might get to him the quicker.
Then everything was done for her. Amid the bustle of the departing train, she was piteously aware of Farrell, and just before they started, she leant out to give him her hand.
'I will tell George all you have done for me,' she said, gulping down a sob.
He pressed her hand before releasing it, but said nothing. What was there to say? Meanwhile, Cicely, to ease the situation, was chattering hard, describing how Farrell had sent his chauffeur to Ambleside on a motor bicycle, immediately after leaving Nelly, and so had got a telephone message through to Cicely.