"Have you heard that the house on the hill is let?" he was saying. "Some one from London has taken it for the whole summer."
"What have you brought, postman?" Mrs. Vincent asked. He handed her a letter for Hannah. A smile came to her lips when she saw it. "It's the hand that directed the Christmas card," she said to herself. "And it's my belief that Mr. Garratt's coming at last."
VI
Margaret was in the seventh heaven when they reached London. The drive from Waterloo to the Langham—the bridge, the stream of people, the shops—were all bewildering. She could have sung for joy as they drove along in the hansom.
"It appears to please you," Mr. Vincent said, with a little smile.
"It does! It does!" she exclaimed. "Only I should like to walk along the pavements—"
"You shall presently."
"And look into all the windows—"