She turned and saw a slender girl in a middle-aged toque and an ill-cut old-fashioned coat and skirt. What were they to say to each other, two dowdy struggling women both in the same box? She must get her to Banbury Park as quickly as possible. It was dreadful that they should be seen together there on the platform in their ragbag clothes. At any rate they must not talk. “Oh, I’m very pleased to see you. I’m glad you’ve come. I suppose the train must have been late,” she said eagerly. “Ah, we’ll be late I dare venture. Haven’t an idea of the hour.” “Oh, yes,” said Miriam emphatically, “I’m sure the train’s _late_.” “Where’ll we find a core?” “What?” “We’ll need a core for the luggage.” “Oh yes, a cab. We must get a cab. We’d better find a porter.” “Ah, I’ve a man here seeking out my things.” Inside the cab Julia’s face shone chalky white, and Miriam found that her eyes looked like Weymouth Bay--the sea in general, on days when clouds keep sweeping across the sun. When she laughed she had dimples and the thick white rims of her eyelids looked like piping cord round her eyes. But she was not pretty. There were lines in her cheeks as well as dimples, and there was something apologetic in her little gusty laugh. She laughed a good deal as they started off, saying things, little quiet remarks that Miriam could not understand and that did not seem to be answers to her efforts to make conversation. Perhaps she was not going the right way to make her talk. Perhaps she had not said any of the things she thought she had said. She cleared her throat and looked out of the window thinking over a possible opening. “I’ve never been so glad over anything in my life as hearing you’re one of the teachers,” said Julia presently. “The Pernes call me by my name, so I suppose you will too as you’re a teacher,” said Miriam headlong. “That’s awfully sweet of you,” replied Julia laughing and blushing a clear deep rose. “It makes anyone feel at home. I’ll be looking out till I hear it.” “It’s----” Miriam laughed. “Isn’t it funny that people don’t like saying their own names.” “I wish you’d tell me about your teaching. I’m sure you’re awf’ly clever.” Miriam gave her a list of the subjects she taught in the lower school. “You know all there is to know.” “Oh well, and then I take the top girls now for German and the second class for French reading, and two arithmetic classes in the upper school, and a ‘shell’ of two very stupid girls to help with their College of Preceptors.” “You’re frightening me.” 2