An hour later Mason found Laura with little Nelly lying heavily asleep in her arms. At sight of him she put finger on lip, and, rising, carried the child to her bed. Tenderly she put her down--tenderly kissed the little hand. The child's utter sleep seemed to soothe her, for she turned away with a smile on her blanched lips. She gave money to Mrs. Starr, who was to nurse the little one for a week, and then, it seemed to Mason, she was all alacrity, all eagerness to go. "Oh! but we're late!" she said, looking at her watch in the street. And she hastily put her head out of the window and implored the cabman to hurry. Mason said nothing. The station, when they reached it, was in a Saturday night ferment. Trains were starting and arriving, the platforms were packed with passengers. Mason said a word to a porter as they rushed in. The porter answered; then, while they fled on, the man stopped a moment and looked back as though about to run after them. But a dozen passengers with luggage laid hands upon him at once, and he was left with no time for more than the muttered remark: "Marsland? Why, there's no train beyond Braeside to-night." "No. 4 platform," said Hubert to his companion. "Train just going." Laura threw off her exhaustion and ran. The guard was just putting his whistle to his lips. Hubert lifted her into her carriage. "Good-bye," she said, waving to him, and disappeared at once into a crowd of fellow-passengers. "Right for Marsland?" cried Hubert to the guard. The guard, who had already whistled, waved his flag as he replied: "Marsland? No train beyond the junction to-night." Hubert paused for a moment, then, as the train was moving briskly out, sprang upon the foot-board. A porter rushed up, the door was opened, and he was shoved in amid remonstrances from front and rear. The heavily laden train stopped at every station--was already nearly an hour late. Holiday crowds got in and out; the platforms were gay with talk and laughter. Mason saw nothing and heard nothing. He sat leaning forward, his hat slouched over his eyes. The man opposite thought he had fallen asleep. Whose fault was it? Not his! He might have made sure? Why, wasn't Seaton's word good enough? _She_ thought so. Why hadn't he made sure?--in that interval before he came back for her. She might have stayed at Froswick for the night. Plenty of decent people would have put her up. He remembered how he had delayed to call the cab till the last moment. ... Good God! how could a man know what he had thought! He was fair moidered--bedazzled--by that awful thing--and all the change of plans. And there was Seaton's word for it. Seaton was a practical man, and always on the railway.