To recover her equanimity, Mrs. Rosamond thought she would stroll about a little before going back to Islington, which, it was explained to her, was at the other extremity of the line. Much refreshed by an hour’s walk and the novelty of the _terra incognita_, she booked again, and resumed her pilgrimage, determined that this time there should be no mistake. What was it? Was it fatality? or was it some mischievous whispering spirit that caused her to keep mentally repeating the words, “Bank Station”? An echo, perhaps, of the instructions received the evening before. Anyhow, she did not go straight on, but as soon as the train reached the City, she alighted at the Bank, and found herself once more in the maze of subways branching off from the Central’s booking-office. The little woman was in despair. What must she do? It was no use asking her way, everybody seemed in too violent a hurry to attend to other people; so she walked mechanically down a disagreeably steep asphalted incline and along a wood-paved, white-tiled tunnel, and saw at the end an electric Tube station. There was the usual narrow platform, the glazed tunnel, the electric light, and the four-car train, but no queer-shaped engine, and the carriages looked smaller than those of the Central and of a different build, the glazed sides sloping inwards towards the low roof. There was no booking-office, so she stepped into the train, where, as in an omnibus, tickets were issued and punched for the sum of two-pence. The cars were narrow and stuffy, and she did not like them, but looking up, she caught sight of a brass plate giving the name of the engineers at Preston, Lancashire, and this quite cheered her. In about five minutes the train stopped, and everybody got out and streamed up stairways and along passages into what proved to be a vast railway terminus--Waterloo; and she realised the dismal fact that by inadvertence she had taken the Waterloo and City Railway, instead of the City and South London! It was the word “City” running in her head that had done the mischief. Nothing was left but to return, and so, through lofty cavernous regions beneath the terminus, over bridges, and down endless slopes of wood-paving, she managed to reach the up-platform.