"He's a real beauty, if I may make so bold. May I ask his name? I am a dog-lover, miss, and always was."
"Her name is Musüme."
"Eh, what?" A pair of bright blue eyes regarded her and the dog with some perplexity.
"Musüme," dropped from Lilian's lips, but she frowned again.
"Is that Latin, miss? It ain't a word I know."
Then Lilian turned almost fiercely on her tormentor.
"No; it is Japanese." But her manner was so repressive; it said so plainly, "How dare you address me in this familiar way?" that the young man flushed and looked a little disconcerted. This pretty young creature in the white dress had a decided temper.
"Beg pardon," she heard him mutter. "No offence, I hope." But the next moment he was on his feet again. The dust was dreadful; he must close the window. They were coming to Layton tunnel; he hoped the ladies would not be nervous, for he had discovered there was no light. Here Lilian glanced furtively at the gas-lamp overhead. Even when they had entered the tunnel the voice was still audible at intervals. "Beg pardon, ma'am." He had evidently trodden on the fat woman's toes. "Great Scott!" as a shrill whistle nearly deafened them, and one of the young market-women called out: "Bless your heart, ma'am, they are only a-clearing the way. There is no call to be frightened. Makes you feel a bit jumpy in the dark, so it does. Here we are in the light again, and we are slackening for the station. Shall I put down the window for a moment, miss, just to give us an airing?" But Lilian took no notice, and the next moment the train stopped.
The carriage seemed emptying. First the loutish lads and the surly man got out, then the labourer and the red-faced widow, the fat woman and the two young market-women followed, and yes—oh, the joy of it!—her red-headed tormentor was getting out too.
Lilian put down Musüme that she might stretch her little legs, then she established herself in the fat woman's corner, and pulled the curtain across the dusty window—the heat would be more bearable now. Then Musüme uttered a shrill little bark and fled growling to her mistress as some one entered with a flying leap. It was the red-headed young man. Lilian nearly gasped, but there was no time to leave the carriage, for the whistle had already sounded.