herself together, and gave attention.

"Thank you," she said, "but it's the work of a cousin of mine."

The lad put Clarence Mills's novel down, and took up a pocket edition
of "Merchant of Venice."

"In that case," he remarked, "I suppose it's no use showing you
anything written by your Uncle William."

Trew came at a run, saving her the necessity of thinking of an answer.
Mr. Henry was now on the arrival platform, right across where a finger
pointed; Gertie was to wait until a scarlet handkerchief showed itself,
and she begged him very earnestly not to give the signal unless it
appeared to be well justified. A train, that had received no education
in the art of reticence, came to an intervening set of lines, and
Gertie's anxiety increased; she hurried down the platform to a point
from which it was possible to see the meeting. Henry was engaged in
conversation with a Great Western official; Mr. Trew, in going past,
turned and, with a great air of wonder, recognized him. Gertie noted
with satisfaction that Henry's greeting was hearty and unrestrained.
Mr. Trew indicated a superior carriage standing near; she knew, from
his gestures, that he was describing the uncovered conveyances recalled
from his early youth.

"Oh, do make haste!" she urged under her breath.

They moved a few steps together, and Henry interrupted conversation
with an inquiry. Mr. Trew, astonished to the extent of taking off his
hat, gave a wave with it in the direction of Platform Number One, and
Henry spoke eagerly. Mr. Trew took out his scarlet handkerchief,
rubbed his face.

"Now," cried Henry, advancing delightedly to meet her, "I wonder what
the chances were against our meeting here?"

"It is rather unexpected, isn't it?"

"Where," he hesitated, "where is Mr. Bulpert?"

"I really don't know," she replied, smiling. "We're not engaged any
longer."

"Good news!" he cried with emphasis. "That is to say, it's good news
if you wished the engagement to cease."

"I wasn't sorry."

He took her elbow, and glanced around. Mr. Trew was examining a set of
milk churns with the air of an experienced dairyman.

"Isn't it amazing," said Henry, "how one lucky moment can change the
appearance of everything? I've been feeling lately that nothing could
possibly come right, and now--"

"We mustn't go on too fast," she interposed sagely, "because that only
means more disappointment. You haven't heard yet about my father.
Listen whilst I te