She jumped up and looked eagerly out of the window. "They've sent a fly for us. And there's the station-master on the lookout. How it all comes back to me!" Her flushed cheek showed a natural excitement. She was coming back as its mistress to a house where she had been happy as a child, which she had not seen for years. Thoughts of her father, as he had been in the old days before any trouble had arisen between them, came rushing through her mind--tender, regretful thoughts--as the train came slowly to a standstill. But the entire indifference or passivity of her companion restrained her from any further expression. The train stopped, and she descended to the platform of a small country station, alive apparently with traffic and passengers. "Miss Blanchflower?" said a smiling station-master, whose countenance seemed to be trying to preserve the due mean between welcome to the living and condolence for the dead, as, hat in hand, he approached the newcomers, and guided by her deep mourning addressed himself to Delia. "Why, Mr. Stebbing, I remember you quite well," said Delia, holding out her hand. "There's my maid--and I hope there's a cart for the luggage. We've got a lot." A fair-haired man in spectacles, who had also just left the train, turned abruptly and looked hard at the group as he passed them. He hesitated a moment, then passed on, with a curious swinging gait, a long and shabby over-coat floating behind him--to speak to the porter who was collecting tickets at the gate opening on the road beyond. Meanwhile Delia had been accosted by another gentleman, who had been sitting reading his _Morning Post_ on the sunny platform, as the train drew up. He too had examined the new arrivals with interest, and while Delia was still talking to the station-master, he walked up to her. "I think you are Miss Blanchflower: But you won't remember me." He lifted his hat, smiling. Delia looked at him, puzzled. "Don't you remember that Christmas dance at the Rectory, when you were ten, and I was home from Sandhurst?" "Perfectly!--and I quarrelled with you because you wouldn't give me champagne, when I'd danced with you, instead of lemonade. You said what was good for big boys wasn't good for little girls--and I called you a bully--" "You kicked me!--you had the sharpest little toes!" "Did I?" said Delia composedly. "I was rather good at kicking. So you are Billy Andrews?" "Right. I'm Captain now, and they've just made me adjutant down here for the Yeomanry. My mother keeps house for me. You're coming here to live? Please let me say how sorry I was to see your sad news." The condolence was a little clumsy but sincere. "Thank you. I must go and see to the luggage. Let me introduce you to Miss Marvell--Captain Andrews--Miss Marvell."