With better fortune
than she could have hoped for, a train was going to start in a
quarter of an hour; and the station clerk was much too busy and too
much hurried to remark how scared were her eyes, and how trembling
her voice, as she asked at his pigeon-hole for "A first-class ticket
to Oldburgh, if you please," offered the sovereign in payment, swept
up the change, and crept out to the platform.
A carriage had "Oldburgh" marked on it; she tried to open the door,
but could not reach the handle; then fancied a stout porter who came
up with his key must be some messenger of the Lord Chancellor come to
catch her, and was very much relieved when he only said, "Where for,
Miss?" and on her answer, "Oldburgh," opened the door for her, and
held her bag while she tripped up the steps. "Any luggage, Miss?"
"No, thank you." He shot one inquiring glance after her, but
hastened away; and she settled herself in the very farthest corner of
the carriage, and lived in an agony for the train to set off before
her flight should be detected.
Once off, she did not care; she should be sure of at least seeing
Sylvia, and telling her uncle her troubles. She had one great start,
when the door was opened, and a gentleman peered in; but it was
merely to see if there was room, for she heard him say, "Only a
child," and in came a lady and two gentlemen, who at least filled up
the window so that nobody could see her, while they talked a great
deal to someone on the platform.
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