It was expected she would return within twenty minutes after leaving the house; instead, ten o’clock struck as her knock came, and this was not her usual single knock, but represented the music of a triumphant dance. The fault for imagining disaster she imputed to her mistress, who seemed to lack the gift of comprehending a well and clearly expressed letter. Mr. Easter had no idea of backing out of the engagement; on the contrary, he wished her, in the new circumstances, to make some more elaborate investments at certain of the best shops in the neighbourhood, and this represented his uncle’s desire as well as his own. Irene’s mistress tells me she had given up all thoughts and hopes of seeing her again when, being away in the north of London, and desiring to return with all despatch, she managed by standing in front of a conveyance to stop it. Passengers on the left reluctantly made room: the young woman next to whom she sat begged pardon coldly, and carefully shielded skirts. Recognition came. “What a very small world it is!” said Irene, in a high voice. “How most extraordinary you and I should run across each other again! And tell me,” condescendingly, “you are getting on pretty well? So glad! What a great convenience these motor omnibuses must be to poor people; I suppose you often travel in them. Do you know, I couldn’t get a taxi when I wanted one just now, couldn’t get one for love or money. My husband will be so annoyed when I tell him about it. I get out here. Three At Homes to go to. Goodbye!” XIV—YOUNG NUISANCES THE three had done nearly everything forbidden by the company’s notices, and as the train slowed in order to stop at a junction, they expressed a fierce determination to reserve the compartment for the rest of the journey. If any one touched the handle they would fetch him (or her) such a rap across the knuckles as wouldn’t make him (or her) half scream. They were still discussing plans of defence when the train came to a crowded platform; the three rushed to the door and side windows, shouting an assurance that there was no room, that the door was locked, that the compartment had been specially reserved. A short struggle, and determined travellers made their way in. “Young hussies!” exclaimed a brown-faced woman wrathfully. “Never saw such impudence in all my life before.” “They come down,” said another, “these yer London schoolchildren, and they kick up such a deuce and all of a shindy that everybody in the village begs and prays they’ll never be allowed to come again.” “And the manners they learn our youngsters!” remarked a third. “The expressions! The sayings! The tunes!” “The country’s no fit place for ’em,” declared the brown-faced woman emphatically. “I’m strongly in favour of every one keeping themselves to themselves. I’ve never so much as thought of going up to London myself. Sooner see myself dead and in my grave and buried, I would.”