RL WITH

ase and golf-clubs, and arranged an assignation on Number 6 platform. I bought my ticket, and made my way to the bookstall, where, in the interests of trade, I inquired in a loud and penetrating voice if they had got Jeremy Garnet's "Manoeuvres of Arthur." Being info

eady alongside, and presently I observed my porter cle

vigorously. "Good for you. Tho

with the smili

he carriage to ourselves. Devil of a lot of people here this morning. Still, the more people there are in the world, the more eggs we shall sell. I can s

of fellow traveller whom I had hoped to keep out. I had noticed the girl at the booking office. She had waited by the side of the queue while the elderly gentleman struggled gamely for the tickets, and I had had plenty of opportunity of observing her appearance. I had d

elderly gentleman, coming to the door of the compartment and l

ather. No

said the elderly ge

shman. It was not a brogue. There were no str

settling himself and p

cries echoed down the platform. Lost sheep, singly and in companies, rushed to and fro, peering eagerly into carriages in search of seats. Piercing voices ordered unknown "Tommies" and "Ernies" to "keep by

dress, skin-tight; a youth called Albert, not, it was to appear, a sunny child; a niece of some twenty

that direction. Albert regarded him fixedly and reproachfully for a space, then

lers, accompanied by three dirty and frivolous boys. It was, she stated, lucky that she had caught the train. I could not agree with her. The girl with the brown hair and the eyes that were neither blue or grey was bearing

bserved Alb

mustn't speak

my bag for then?" sai

ation. The odour of aniseed became more and more painful. Ukridge had lighted a cig

nd he bore

but he mi

gasped. That a girl should look as pretty as that and at the same time have the rare intelligence to read Me ... well, it seemed an almost superhuman combination of the excellencies. And more devoutly than ever I cursed in my heart these intrusive outsiders who had charged in at the last moment and destro

ked him out as a future labour member, was consoling herself with meat sandwiches. The niece was demolishing sausage ro

tump of his cigar, and was now leaning back with his mouth open and his eyes shut. Aunty, still clutching a much-bitten section of a beef sandw

k, my dear?" ask

f Arthur,' father.

e evidence of my ears that my name c

ps a shelf of books for her guests when they are going away.

achern without f

do you thi

dly. The carriage swam before my

w it was selling, looked at me with a sort of grave, paternal pity and said that it had not really "begun to move?" Anybody can write one of those rotten popular novels which appe

d young man, probably with an eyeglass, and conceited. And I should think he didn't know many girls. A

little thing at that. That scene between her and the curate in the conservatory ... And when she talks to Arthur

Arthur," s

liked Arthur, why, then it followed ... but what was the use? I should never get a chance o

among the sleepers. Aunty's eyes opened, stared vacantly round, closed, and reopened. The

There was a general exodus. Aunty became instantly a thing of dash and electricity, collected parcel

I watched them leave stoically. It would have been too

Yeovil? Not far now. I tell you what it

did so, my eye, roving discontentedly over the carriage, was caught by something lyi

ry that the book might have been left behind on purpose, as being of no further use to the owner. It only occurred to me th

later I was o

" I said, "

u so much," s

e carriage, and lit my p

l soul. "A wonderful, deep, soft, hea