“What’s the matter with you, Niven?” inquired Miss Peppy with some anxiety, on observing that the housekeeper’s face was ashy pale.
“Nothink, ma’am; only I feels assured that everythink is a-goin’ to bu’st, ma’am.”
She looked round hastily, as if in search of some way of escape, but no such way presented itself.
“Look-out for your legs, ma’am,” shouted a porter, as he tried to stop his truck of luggage.
Mrs Niven of course did not hear him, and if she had heard him, she would not have believed it possible that he referred to her legs, for she wore a very long dress, and was always scrupulously particular in the matter of concealing her ankles. Fortunately Kenneth observed her danger, and pulled her out of the way with unavoidable violence.
“It can’t ’old on much longer,” observed Niven with a sigh, referring to an engine which stood directly opposite to her in tremulous and apparently tremendous anxiety to start.
The driver vented his impatience just then by causing the whistle to give three sharp yelps, which produced three agonising leaps in the bosoms of Miss Peppy and Mrs Niven.
“Couldn’t it all be done with a little less noise,” said Miss Peppy to Kenneth, “it seems to me so aw— oh! look! surely that old gentleman has gone mad!”
“Not he,” said Kenneth with a smile; “he has only lost his wife in the crowd, and thinks the train will start before he finds her; see, she is under the same impression, don’t you see her rushing wildly about looking for her husband, they’ll meet in a moment or two if they keep going in the same direction, unless that luggage-truck should interfere.”
“Look-out, sir!” shouted the porter at that moment. The old gentleman started back, and all but knocked over his wife, who screamed, recognised him, and clung to his arm with thankful tenacity.