I was always
rather lucky at that in my own fam--at my father's--" She pulled herself
sharply up, as if danger lay that way. "I got an introduction to Mrs.
Westangle, and she's to let me try. I am going to her simply as part of
the catering, and I'm not to have any recognition in the hospitalities.
So it wasn't necessary for her to send for me at the station, except as a
means of having me on the ground in good season. I have to thank you for
that, and--I thank you." She ended in a sigh.
"It's very interesting," Verrian said, and he hoped he was not saying it
in any ignoble way.
He was very presently to learn. Round a turn of the road there came a
lively clacking of horses' shoes on the hard track, with the muted rumble
of rubber-tired wheels, and Mrs. Westangle's victoria dashed into view.
The coachman had made a signal to Verrian's driver, and the vehicles
stopped side by side. The footman instantly came to the door of the
carryall, touching his hat to Verrian.
"Going to Mrs. Westangle's, sir?"
"Yes."
"Mrs. Westangle's carriage. Going to the station for you, sir."
"Miss Shirley," Verrian said, "will you change?"
"Oh no," she answered, quickly, "it's better for me to go on as I am.
But the carriage was sent for you. You must--"
Verrian interrupted to ask the footman, "How far is it yet to Mrs.
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