"Yes, perhaps it would rather," Eleanor said thoughtfully. "I tell you how you must manage. To begin with, don't let a maid do your unpacking for you, and keep everything locked up until you have had time to go out and buy a bottle of marking ink and some block tape. Then mark the tape with your name and sew it over the name on your linen." "And then," Eleanor pursued, "we must always remember to keep most of our private possessions under lock and key, so that no one reads our real names on any of our books." "Why, that is just what I have been telling you," said Margaret, "and as a beginning I wrote Margaret Anstruther over the Eleanor Carson on the fly-leaves of your grammar and your dictionary." "Why, of course, so you did," said Eleanor. "Excuse my apparent inattention. At that moment I was choosing the opera in which I was to make my _debut_, and was trying to decide whether the said _debut_ shall take place in London or Paris, or in New York. They do give one such splendid receptions in New York. One thing you may rely on, Margaret, I shall send you tickets. Stall, second row, or would you like a box?" "Speaking of boxes," said Margaret seriously, "are your name or your initials painted on yours; neither are on mine." "Nor on mine. My trunk, too, is innocent of any old labels that might betray us." At that moment a porter opened the door and looked in. "The 2.17 has just been signalled," he said; "are either of you ladies going by it?" "We both are," said Eleanor, jumping up briskly and going towards the door. "Porter, our trunks are wrongly labelled. Would you kindly see to it for us. The one that should be labelled to Seabourne is labelled to Chailfield, and _vice versa_. I will come and show you. Come along, Margaret, the porter will take your bag." "I had omitted to take the matter of labels into my consideration," Margaret said, in an undertone, as they followed the man up the platform. "Well, you needn't reproach yourself over much for that," Eleanor said. "Considering that this is your first attempt at a conspiracy, you make an A1 plotter." Margaret's answering smile was rather a perfunctory one. She found Eleanor's way of treating the matter as a most excellent jest rather a trying one, and yet she could not but acknowledge that Eleanor's foresight, when she chose to exercise it, was at least equal to her own. For when Eleanor had made sure that the new railway labels were properly affixed she changed their private labels, thus making the transfer of their names complete. CHAPTER VII MRS. MURRAY MEETS THE TRAIN