I didn’t know what to do because he didn’t seem to be even beginning to start. Then I remembered that when we were at Cousin Sophy’s the cabman wouldn’t drive us back from the pantomime because he said Chiswick was too far. So I poked open the little hole again, and I said, “You are on the rank plying for hire, and unless you start immediately I shall summons you.” That was what Cousin Sophy said; Humph and I have often acted it since, because the cabman was so angry and there was such an exciting fuss. This cabman wasn’t angry, though; he just seemed to get more and more astonished. He began to laugh, and he said again, “Well, I’m blessed!” Then he said, “You ain’t running away, are you, Missy?” I said “No.” I think that was true, because it isn’t exactly running away when you have been told that you are to go the next day in any case. I said, “I am just travelling home to my Mother.” That seemed to decide him more. He was going to start, when he thought of something else to worry over. He called down, “But ’ow about my fare, Missy?” I had been rather troubled about that myself. I’d got the half-crown for him, of course, and the ticket home from Waterloo is only one-and-five-pence-halfpenny, so he could have another halfpenny out of the sixpence with the hole in it, as well as my bright farthing. But I wasn’t sure if even all that was enough. Cabs are so dreadfully expensive, Mother always says; and Father says one oughtn’t to be stingy. So I just explained it to the cabman. I said, “I’ve got half-a-crown for you, and a halfpenny out of the sixpence with a hole in it, and a bright farthing; and if you’ll drive me as far as you can for that without me being stingy, I’ll walk the rest.” I knew there couldn’t be very much further to go, anyway. The cabman, though, was most nice. He said, “The ’alf-crown will do nicely for me, Missy. You can keep the rest.” Then we really did drive off. I did like it in the cab, and the streets were all bright with the lights. A clock we passed said it was ten minutes to twelve; wasn’t that an astonishing time? When we got to Waterloo I jumped out and gave the cabman his money. He said, “Shall you find the lady all right?” I said “Yes.” I think he would have said more, only just at that minute some one waved to him from the opposite side of the road. There weren’t very many people in the station, but they all stared very rudely, and some looked as if they were going to speak. So I hurried on as fast as I could to the place where you get the tickets. I knew there was a train in the middle of the night, you see, because Father comes down by it sometimes after parties. The little window for buying the tickets was open. (I can reach up to it quite easily on tiptoe; Humphrey can’t, he’d have to take a footstool if he travelled alone.) I said, “One half-third single to Farncombe.”