"Some particular appointment or another, I should think." "Well, poor fellow, I hope he is not badly injured," was the charitable wish now uttered, when a dissertation upon the right or wrong action of porters in trying to stop people ensued, it being generally accorded that the by-laws upon which they acted ought to be rescinded, and that the guard ought to report all breaches of the regulations at the next station. And all these comments were made within Ella's hearing, but without once diverting her steadfast stony gaze, as now, leaning back in her corner, she looked straight out at the flying landscape as mile after mile was passed. Once or twice a remark was made to her, but she merely bent her head; and at last she was allowed to remain unquestioned, unnoticed, as the train sped on swiftly towards the great metropolis. She changed carriages mechanically when requested, and again and again produced her ticket, but always in the same dreamy strange way. Passengers came, and passengers went, some speaking, others paying no heed to their closely veiled and silent companion; but not once did Ella speak or evince any knowledge of what was passing around. How that journey was performed, she never knew, nor by what strange influence she was guided in her acts; but press on she did, and to the end. Volume 3, Chapter XXI. THE COPSE-HALL GHOST. "I wonder what's become of Miss Bedford!" said the cook at Mrs Brandon's, as she sat with her fellow-servants enjoying the genial warmth of the fire before retiring to rest. It was about half-past ten, and, probably to soften Edward the hard, the stewpan was in use, and steaming mugs of hot spiced liquid were being from time to time applied to lips. "Married long before this, I should think," said the housemaid, tossing her head. "You don't suppose she's like some people I know, going on shilly-shallying year after year, as if they never meant to get married at all." "Never you mind about that," said Edward gruffly; "perhaps we shall get married when it suits us, and perhaps we sha'n't. I don't see no fun in going away from a good home and a good missus, to hard lines and spending all your savings, like some people as ain't old enough to know better." "Does missus ever talk about her, Mr Eddard?" said Cook persuasively. "Not often," said Edward; "but I know one thing,--she ain't had a letter from her for ever so long, now." "How do you know?" said the housemaid. "How do I know?" exclaimed Mr Eddard contemptuously. "Why, don't I see all the envelopes, and can't I tell that way? But there's something wrong about her, I believe; for there came a letter about three weeks or a month ago, and it seemed to cut missus up a good deal, and I heard her say something out aloud." "What did she say?" said Cook and Mary in a breath, for the recounter had stopped. "Well, I didn't catch it all," said Edward, speaking in his mug; "but it was something like: `Gone with Mr Bray? Impossible!'"