"Oh no, father. Not a bit."

"Then I think ..." said the elderly gentleman, getting in.

The inflection of his voice suggested the Irishman. It was not a
brogue. There were no strange words. But the general effect was Irish.

"That's good," he said, settling himself and pulling out a cigar case.

The bustle of the platform had increased momentarily, until now, when,
from the snorting of the engine, it seemed likely that the train might
start at any minute, the crowd's excitement was extreme. Shrill cries
echoed down the platform. Lost sheep, singly and in companies, rushed
to and fro, peering eagerly into carriages in search of seats. Piercing
voices ordered unknown "Tommies" and "Ernies" to "keep by aunty, now."
Just as Ukridge returned, that _sauve qui peut_ of the railway crowd,
the dreaded "Get in anywhere," began to be heard, and the next moment
an avalanche of warm humanity poured into the carriage.

The newcomers consisted of a middle-aged lady, addressed as Aunty, very
stout and clad in a grey alpaca dress, skin-tight; a youth called
Albert, not, it was to appear, a sunny child; a niece of some twenty
years, stolid and seemingly without interest in life, and one or two
other camp-followers and retainers.

Ukridge slipped into his corner, adroitly foiling Albert, who had made
a dive in that direction. Albert regarded him fixedly and reproachfully
for a space, then sank into the seat beside me and began to chew
something that smelt of aniseed.

Aunty, meanwhile, was distributing her substantial weight evenly
between the feet of the Irish gentleman and those of his daughter, as
she leaned out of the window to converse with a lady friend in a straw
hat and hair curlers, accompanied by three dirty and frivolous boys. It
was, she stated, lucky that she had caught the train. I could not agree
with her. The girl with the brown hair and the eyes that were neither
blue or grey was bearing the infliction, I noticed, with angelic calm.
She even smiled. This was when the train suddenly moved off with a
jerk, and Aunty, staggering back, sat down on the bag of food which
Albert had placed on the seat beside him.

"Clumsy!" observed Albert tersely.

"_Albert_, you mustn't speak to Aunty so!"

"Wodyer want to sit on my bag for then?" said Albert disagreeably.

They argued the point. Argument in no wise interfered with Albert's
power of mastication. The odour of aniseed became more and more
painful. Ukridge had li