sure, Margaret thought--to go to
London again, for she had said so. She went by a morning train, and did
not come back till after dark in the evening, so there was no fear of
our running up against her at the railway station. There was a train
that would do for Hill Horton, after waiting a little at the Junction,
at about three o'clock in the afternoon; and as it was my half-holiday,
Peterkin and I could easily get leave to go out together if it was fine,
and if it wasn't, we would have to come without! We trusted it would be
fine; and I settled in my own mind that if we _had_ to come without
asking, I'd leave a message with James the footman, that they weren't to
be frightened about us at home, for I didn't want mamma and all the
others to be in a fuss again, like the evening Peterkin was lost.

Margaret said we needn't be away more than about an hour and a half. I
don't quite remember how she'd got all she knew about the times of the
trains. I think it was from the cook or housemaid at Miss Bogle's, for I
know she said one of them came from near Hill Horton, and that she was
very good-natured, and liked talking about Margaret's home and her own.

So it was settled.

Just to make it even more fixed, we promised to go round by Rock Terrace
on Monday at the usual time, and Margaret was either to speak to us from
the dining-room window, or, if she couldn't, she would hang out a white
handkerchief somewhere that we should be sure to see, which would mean
that it was all right.

We were to meet her at the corner of her row of houses nearest Lindsay
Square, at half-past two on Wednesday. How she meant to do about her
bath-chair drive, and all the rest of it, she didn't tell us, and,
really, there wasn't time.

But I felt sure she would manage it, and Peterkin was even surer than I.

The last thing she said was--

'Of course, I shall have very little luggage; not more than you two boys
can easily carry between you.'

CHAPTER VIII

A TERRIBLE IDEA

THAT was on a Wednesday, and the same day the next week was to be _the_
day. On the Monday, as we had planned, we strolled along Rock Terrace.
Luckily, it was a fine day, and we could look well about us without
appearing to have any particular reason for doing so. It would have
seemed rather funny if we had been holding up umbrellas, or, I should
say, if _I_ had been, for when it rained Peterkin wasn't allowed to come
to meet me.

We stood still in front of the