"Miss Lambert, are you asleep, or dreaming with your eyes open? Don't you see we are moving? There was such a bustle just now, and then they got the steam up, and now the engine is beginning to work. Oh! how slowly we are going! I could walk faster. Oh! we are stopping again--no, it is only my fancy. Is not the shriek of the whistle musical for once?" "I was not asleep; I was only thinking; but my thoughts had travelled far. Are we really moving? There, the snow-plow has cleared the line; we shall go on faster presently." "I hope so; it is nearly eight. I ought to have reached London an hour ago. Poor Neville, how disappointed he will be. Oh, we are through the drift now and they are putting on more steam." "Yes, we shall be at Cliffe in another ten minutes;" and Bessie roused in earnest. Those ten minutes seemed interminable before the lights of the station flashed before their eyes. "Here she is--here is our Bessie!" exclaimed a voice, and a fine-looking young fellow in an ulster ran lightly down the platform as Bessie waved her handkerchief. He was followed more leisurely by a handsome, gray-haired man with a quiet, refined-looking face. "Tom--oh, Tom!" exclaimed Bessie, almost jumping into his arms, as he opened the carriage door. "Were mother and Hattie very frightened? Why, there is father!" as Dr. Lambert hurried up. "My dear child, how thankful I am to see you! Why, she looks quite fresh, Tom." "As fit as possible," echoed Tom. "Yes, I am only cold. Father, the guard put me in with a young lady. She was going to London, but it is too late for her to travel alone, and she is afraid of going to a hotel. May I bring her home? Her name is Edna Sefton. She lives at The Grange, Oatlands." Dr. Lambert seemed somewhat taken aback by his daughter's speech. "Edna Sefton! Why, that is Eleanor Sefton's daughter! What a strange coincidence!" And then he muttered to himself, "Eleanor Sartoris' daughter under our roof! I wonder what Dora will say?" And then he turned to the fair, striking-looking girl whom Tom was assisting with all the alacrity that a young man generally shows to a pretty girl: "Miss Sefton, you will be heartily welcome for your mother's sake; she and I were great friends in the 'auld lang syne.' Will you come with me? I have a fly waiting for Bessie; my son will look after the luggage;" and Edna obeyed him with the docility of a child. But she glanced at him curiously once or twice as she walked beside him. "What a gentlemanly, handsome man he was!" she thought. Yes, he looked like a doctor; he had the easy, kindly manner which generally belongs to the profession. She had never thought much about her own father, but to-night, as they drove through the lighted streets, her thoughts, oddly enough, recurred to him. Dr. Lambert was sitting opposite the two girls, but his eyes were fixed oftenest on his daughter.