Miss Blake, calculating her hours, found she had two or three to spare in the middle of the day, and agreed to do so: provided she might be allowed to leave Mrs. Lloyd's when luncheon was over and not be expected to go to the town-hall. "You will only be alone in returning, for just the few minutes that you are in the train, Lucy," she said. "The Lloyds will see you into it, and your servants can have a fly waiting for you at Foxwood Station." This programme had been carried out: and here was Lucy waiting for the four o'clock train at Basham, surrounded by General Lloyd and part of his family. It came steaming slowly in. Adieux were interchanged, and Lucy was put into what is called the ladies' carriage. Only one lady was in it besides herself; some one travelling from London. They looked at each other with some curiosity, sitting face to face. It was but natural; both were young, both were beautiful. "What lovely hair! and what charming blue eyes! and what a bright delicate complexion!" thought Lucy. "I wonder who she is." "I have never in all my life seen so sweet a face!" thought the other traveller. "Her eyes are beautiful: and there's, such a loving sadness in them! And what a handsome dress!--what style altogether!" Lucy's dress was a rich silk, pearl grey in colour; her bonnet white; her small parasol was grey, covered with lace, its handle of carved ivory. She looked not unlike a bride. The other lady wore black silk, a straw bonnet, and black lace veil thickly studded with spots; which veil she had put back as if for air, just after quitting Basham; and she had with her several small parcels. Why or wherefore neither of them knew, but each felt instinctively attracted by the appearance of the other. They were nearing Foxwood Station--it was but about eight minutes' distance from Basham--when Lucy, in changing her position, happened to throw down a reticule bag which had lain beside her. Both of them stooped to pick it up. "Oh, I beg your pardon! I ought to have moved it when you got in," said the stranger, placing it on her own side amidst her parcels. And Lucy, on her part, apologised for having thrown it down. It served to break the ice of reserve: and for the next remaining minute or two they talked together. By the stranger beginning to gather together her parcels, Lucy saw she was preparing to get out at Foxwood. "Are you about to make a stay in this neighbourhood?" she asked. "For the present." "It is a very charming spot. We hear the nightingales every evening." "You are staying in it too, then?" "Yes. It is my home."