LITMIR.BIZ

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limit you to a week’s wailing, and if you don’t turn off the tap after that, they’ll send for a doctor, who’ll prescribe Turkey rhubarb and senna mixed with quinine. It’s a stock school prescription for shirking; harmless, you know, but particularly nasty; you’d have the taste in your mouth for days. Oh, cheer up, for goodness’ sake! Look here: if I’m really sent to the camp at Denley, I’ll come and look you up, and take you out to tea somewhere. How would that suit your ladyship?”

      “Would you really? Will you promise?”

      “Honest Injun, I will!”

      “Then I don’t mind quite so much as I did, though I still hate the thought of school,” conceded Dona.

      The Andersons generally described themselves as “a large and rambling family, guaranteed sound, and quiet in harness, but capable of taking fences if required”. Nora, the eldest, had been married a year ago, Bevis was in the Navy, Leonard was serving “somewhere in France”; Larry, who had just left school, had been called up, and was going into training, and after Marjorie and Dona followed Peter, Cyril, and Joan. Marjorie and Dona always declared that if they could have been consulted in the matter of precedence, they would not have chosen to arrive in the exact centre of a big family. Nora, as eldest, and Joan, as youngest, occupied definite and recognized positions, but middle girls rarely receive as much attention. Dona, indeed, had claimed a certain share of petting, but Marjorie considered herself badly treated by the Fates.

      “I wish I were the only one!” she assured the others. “Think how I’d be appreciated then!”

      “We’ll swop you with pleasure, madam, if you wish,” returned Larry ironically. “I should suggest an advertisement such as this: ‘Wanted situation as only daughter in eligible family, eight brothers and sisters given in exchange. A month’s approval.’ No! Better not put that in, or they’d send you packing back at the end of the first week.”

      “Brothers are beasts!” pouted Marjorie, throwing a cushion at Larry to express her indignation. “What I’d like would be for Mother to take me away for a year, or let me study Art, or Music, or something, just with her. Mamie Page’s mother went with her to Paris, and they’d a gorgeous time. That’s my ambition.”

      “And mine’s just to be allowed to stop at home,” added Dona plaintively.

      Neither Marjorie’s nor Dona’s wishes, however, were considered at head-quarters. The powers that be had decided that they were to be educated at Brackenfield College, their boxes were ready packed, and their train was to leave at nine o’clock by railway time. Mother saw them off at the station.

      “I wish I could have taken you,” she said rather anxiously. “But I think you’ll manage the journey all right. You’re both together, and Marjorie’s a big girl now, and used to travelling. You’ve only to cross the platform at Rosebury to get the London train, and a teacher is to meet you at Euston. You’ll know her by the Brackenfield badge, and be sure you don’t speak to anyone else. Call out of the window for a porter when you reach Rosebury. You’ve plenty of time to change. Well, good-bye, chicks! Be good girls. Don’t forget to send me that telegram from Euston. Write as soon as you can. Don’t lean against the door of the carriage. You’re just off now! Good-bye! Good-bye!”

      As the train steamed out of the station, Dona sank into her place with the air of a martyr starting for the stake, and mopped her eyes with her already damp pocket-handkerchief. Marjorie, case-hardened after many similar partings, settled herself in the next seat, and, pulling out an illustrated paper from her bag, began to read. The train was very full, and the girls had with difficulty found room. Soldiers on leave were returning to the front, and filled the corridor. Dona and Marjorie were crammed in between a stout woman, who nursed a basket containing a mewing kitten, and a wizened little man with an irritating cough. Opposite sat three Tommies, and an elderly lady with a long thin nose and prominent teeth, who entered into conversation with the soldiers, and proffered them much good advice, with an epitome of her ideas on the conduct of the war. The distance from Silverwood to Rosebury was only thirty miles, and the train was due to arrive at the junction with twenty-five minutes to spare for the London express. On all ordinary occasions it jogged along in a commonplace fashion, and turned up up to time. To-day, however, it behaved with unusual eccentricity, and, instead of passing the signals at Meriton, it slowed up and whistled, and finally stood still upon the bridge.

      “Must be something blocking the line,” observed one of the Tommies, looking out of the window.

      “I do hope it’s not an accident. The Company is so terribly understaffed at present, and the signal-men work far too long hours, and are ready to drop with fatigue at their posts,” began the thin lady nervously. “I’ve always had a horror of railway accidents. I wish I’d taken an insurance ticket before I started. Can you see anything on the line, my good man? Is there any danger?”

      The Tommy drew in his head and smiled. It was a particularly good-looking head, with twinkling brown eyes, and a very humorous smile.

      “Not so long as the train is standing still,” he replied. “I think they’ll get us back to the front this time. We’ll probably have to wait till something passes us. It’s just a matter of patience.”

      His words were justified, for in about ten minutes an express roared by, after which event their train once more started, and jogged along to Rosebury.

      “We’re horribly late!” whispered Marjorie to Dona, consulting her watch. “I hope to goodness there’ll be no more stops. It’s running the thing very fine, I can tell you. I’m glad we’ve only to cross the platform. I’ll get a porter as fast as I can.”

      But, when they reached Rosebury, the stout woman and the basket with the kitten got in the way, and the elderly lady jammed up the door with her hold-all, so that, by the time Dona and Marjorie managed to get themselves and their belongings out of the carriage, the very few porters available had already been commandeered by other people. The girls ran to the van at the back of the train, where the guard was turning out the luggage. Their boxes were on the platform amid a pile of suit-cases, bags, and portmanteaux; their extreme newness made them easily recognizable, even without the conspicuous initials.

      “What are we to do?” cried Marjorie. “We’ll miss the London train! I know we shall! Here, Dona, let’s take them ourselves!”

      She seized one of the boxes by the handle, and tried to drag it along the platform, but its weight was prohibitive. After a couple of yards she stopped exhausted.

      “Better leave your luggage and let it follow you,” said a voice at her elbow. “If you want the Euston express, you’ll have to make a run for it.”

      Marjorie turned round quickly. The speaker was the young Tommy who had leaned out of the carriage window when the line was blocked. His dark eyes were still twinkling.

      “The train’s over there, and they’re shutting the doors,” he urged. “Here, I’ll take this for you, if you like. Best hurry up!”

      He had his heavy kit-bag to carry, but he shouldered the girls’ pile of wraps, umbrellas, and hockey-sticks, in addition to his own burden, and set off post-haste along the platform, while Marjorie and Dona, much encumbered with their bags and a few odd parcels, followed in his wake. It was a difficult progress, for everybody seemed to get into their way, and just as they neared the express the guard waved his green flag.

      “Stand back! Stand back!” shouted an official, as the girls made a last wild spurt, the whistle sounded, the guard jumped into the van, and, with a loud clanging of coupling-chains, the train started. They had missed it by exactly five seconds.

      “Hard luck!” said the Tommy, depositing the wraps upon the platform. “You’ll have to wait two hours for the next. You’ll get your luggage, at any rate. Oh, it’s all right!” as Marjorie murmured thanks, “I’m only sorry you’ve missed it,” and he hailed a companion and was gone.

      “It was awfully kind of him,” commented Dona, still panting from her run.

      “Kind!

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