That laugh came in happily. It seemed to sweep away the cobwebs of embarrassment which had lain so thickly about two of the party. Lindo began to talk pleasantly, pointing out this or that reach of the river, and Kate, meeting his cheery eyes, put aside a faint idea of apologizing which had been in her head, and replied frankly. He told them tales of summer voyages between lock and lock, and of long days idly spent in the Wargrave marshes; and, as the identification of Mapledurham and Pangbourne and Wittenham and Goring rendered it necessary that they should all cross and recross the carriage, they were soon on excellent terms with one another, or would have been if the rector had not still detected in Kate’s manner a slight stiffness for which he could not account. It puzzled him also to observe that, though they were ready, Daintry more particularly, to discuss the amusements of London and the goodness of cousin Jack, they both grew reticent when the conversation turned toward Claversham and its affairs. At Oxford he got out to go to the bookstall. “Jack was right,” said Daintry, looking after him. “He _is_ nice.” “Yes,” her sister allowed, rising and sitting down again in a restless fashion. “But I wish we had not fallen in with him, all the same.” “It cannot be helped now,” said Daintry, who was evidently prepared to accept the event with philosophy. Not so her sister. “We might go into another carriage,” she suggested. “That would be rude,” said Daintry calmly. The question was decided for them by the young clergyman’s return. He came along the platform, an animated look in his face. “Miss Bonamy,” he said, stopping at the open door with his hand extended, “there is some one in the refreshment-room whom I think that you would like to see. Mr. Gladstone is there, talking to the Duke of Westminster, and they are both eating buns like common mortals. Will you come and take a peep at them?” “I don’t think that we have time,” she objected. “There is sure to be time,” Daintry cried. “Now, Kate, come!” And she was down upon the platform in a moment. “The train is not due out for five minutes yet,” Lindo said, as he piloted them through the crowd to the doorway. “There, on the left by the fireplace,” he added. Kate glanced, and turned away satisfied. Not so Daintry. With rapt attention in her face, she strayed nearer and nearer to the great men, her eyes growing larger with each step. “She will be talking to them next,” said Kate, in a fidget. “Perhaps asking him if he likes Downing Street,” Lindo suggested slyly. “There, she is coming now,” he added, as Miss Daintry turned and came to them at last. “I wanted to make sure,” she said simply, seeing Kate’s impatience, “that I should know them again. That was all.” “Quite so; I hope you have succeeded,” Kate answered drily. “But, if we are not quick, we shall miss our train.” And she led the way back with more speed than dignity.