The Apple champagne that John gallantly poured into Lucy’s glass did not lighten her spirits or loosen her tongue. What could she find to say to that guzzling father whose face and hands were always close to his plate, except during the brief intervals between the courses when he threw himself back in his chair, blew his nose, wiped his greasy lips, and passed his fat forefinger round the corners of his gums to remove the wedges of food which had escaped deglutition? Or to the gloomy mother who ate her victuals with a sullen champing, and, beyond a few directions to the submissive servant, made no attempts to sustain conversation, only according to the garrulous descriptions of her son an occasional snappish "Oh! indeed——," "Pretty doings, I can see——," "Little good can come of _that_——," and so on? At length, when John’s experiences in London had come to an end and the two dishes of cherries had replaced the treacle pudding, whilst the servant handed round in tumblers our own superlative Sparkling Cider, Lucy cleared her throat and said, "I suppose John will be leaving you very early to-morrow morning?" "Eh?" returned Mrs. Baines, fixing her cold grey eyes on Lucy. She had heard perfectly well, but she thought it more consistent with dignity not to lend too ready an ear to the girl’s remarks. Lucy repeated more distinctly her question. "You had better ask _him_ all about it," replied John’s mother. "I have other things to think about on the Lord’s Day besides railway time-tables." "Why? Are you coming to see me off, Lucy?" asked John. "Well, yes; that is, if Mrs. Baines doesn’t mind." "_I_ mind?" exclaimed the angry woman in a strident voice. "What have _I_ got to do with it; I suppose railway stations are free to every one?" "Yes," said Lucy, with an ache at the back of her throat and almost inclined then and there to break off her engagement. "But I thought you might like to have John all to yourself at the last. However, if you have no objection, I should much like to see him off, poor old fellow"—and Lucy gave his big-knuckled hand an affectionate pat—"I think I can manage it. Father has to come into Theale. He will drop me at the station and pick me up again, and school doesn’t begin till nine. What time does your train go, John?" "Twenty-five past seven. I shall get to London soon after nine. After going to the head-quarters of the Mission and getting my final instructions I shall drive straight down to the docks and go on board the _Godavery_.... The first place we stop at is Algiers, then Malta, then the Suez Canal and Aden. I expect this is just what _you’ll_ have to do, Lucy, when you come out next spring."