The railway took him as far as Blankington Junction, about five miles from Grandcourt; and, as it would be some time before a Grandcourt train came up, he decided, after seeing his effects into a cab, to take advantage of the fine, frosty afternoon, and complete his journey on foot. He was, in fact, beginning to grow a little depressed, and the exercise would brace him up. He had, foolishly enough, looked forward to a somewhat different kind of advent, dropping, perhaps, with some little éclat on a school where Arthur had already proclaimed his fame among the boys, and where Grover had prepared him a welcome among the masters. Compared with that, this solitary backstairs arrival seemed tame and dispiriting, and he half regretted that he had not postponed his coming till to-morrow, even in the face of Dr Ponsford’s suggestion.
A mile from Grandcourt he caught sight of the square red ivy-covered brick tower of the school among the trees. Even in winter it looked warm and picturesque. It was growing dark when he passed the lodge, and crossed the playing-field towards the school-house. The cabman was awaiting him in the square.
“Never gave me your name,” explained he, “and nobody knows nothink about you here. Five miles is seven-and-six, and luggage is two bob more, and waiting another ’alf-hour’s a crown,—namely, twelve shillings, and thank you, mister.”
Railsford rang the bell at the porter’s lodge. A small child of eight appeared.
“Where’s your father?” asked the new master.
“Yout,” replied the girl.
“Well, your mother?”
“Please, she’s—she’s in the churchyard along of my Aunt Sally.”
“Well, run and— You mean she’s dea—?”
The child nodded before he had finished his sentence.