She fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, and she dreamt that his hands were still holding her own, and she thought that she could still feel their pressure as he said those words, which would ever remain in her memory as long as life should last.
"Thank you for all you have done for me to-day."
[CHAPTER XIX]
GRANTLEY CASTLE
Two months after her visit to Birmingham, Marjorie was standing on the platform at Daisy Bank, waiting for the Wolverhampton train. How impatient she was to start!
How full of happiness was her face on that December morning! For she was going home for Christmas. She could hardly believe that it was only a year since she had seen the dear home faces, and to have a whole month with them all seemed almost too good to be true. Patty had come with her to the station, and was full of regret at her departure, full of promises to take her place in the holidays, and to do all she could to keep the house tidy and clean.
As Marjorie looked at her, she could not help feeling that the last few months had made Patty quite a different girl. The brusqueness of her manner was gone; she was more happy and more contented, and, in leaving her in charge of the children and her mother, Marjorie felt that she was leaving one who would tread, as far as possible, in her footsteps; and as Patty would not have to go to school during the time of her absence, she would be able to keep all things as Marjorie had left them, and to save her mother from having any extra work. Thus Marjorie was going home with a happy heart, prepared to thoroughly enjoy her well-earned holiday.
Perhaps our thoughts are never more busily occupied than when we are travelling. As our bodies are being rapidly carried over miles of distance, our thoughts wander further still. As our eyes gaze out of the carriage window upon the various scenes through which we are passing, the eyes of our mind are gazing at other scenes, it may be in far-distant lands. We see the views around us as if we saw them not, for the inner pictures are so vivid that they eclipse the outward ones. As we glance at our fellow-passengers, ensconced with newspaper or book in the corners of the carriage, we are looking, it may be, at other faces and hearing other voices, far away from us in bodily presence, but very near and constantly present to our inner sight.
Marjorie's thoughts were very busy that cold wintry day. Not only was she full of anticipation, picturing out to herself the joy of arriving at home and seeing again the friends from whom she had so long been parted; but at times, as she travelled on, her thoughts, instead of flying northwards far ahead of the train, travelled southwards, and found their way to a little back sitting-room in a dingy street in Birmingham.
What was Kenneth Fortescue doing that day? Was he still living in that poor dismal neighbourhood? Was he still denying himself in countless different ways for their sakes? Or had he discovered the missing word in the letter? Had he found the father who had cast him off as a child? Had he been owned and reinstated in his rightful position? Perhaps he had; perhaps now he was taking his place amongst the great ones of the earth, and they would hear of him no more.