e dark wood; galleons of clouds rolled like lumbering vessels
across the blue sky.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" whispered Maggie.

"Beautiful--beautiful," sighed her aunt.

"I've always loved just this view. I've often walked here just to see
it," Maggie said.

Aunt Anne sat back in her seat.

"It's been hard for me always to live in London. I love the country so."

"So do I," said Maggie, passionately.

For a moment they were together, caught up by the same happiness.

Then Aunt Anne said:

"Why, your bag, dear! The things are all about the place."

Maggie bent down. When she looked up again they had dipped down on the
other side of the hill.

Maggie had only once in all her life been in a train, but on this
present occasion she did not find it very thrilling. It was rather like
being in anything else, and her imagination exercised itself upon the
people in the carriage rather than the scenery outside. She was at
first extremely self-conscious and fancied that every one whispered
about her. Then, lulled by the motion of the train and the warmth, she
slept; she was more deeply exhausted by the events of the last week
than she knew, and throughout the day she slumbered, woke, and
slumbered again.

Quite suddenly she awoke with a definite shock to a new world. Evening
had come; there were lights that rushed up to the train, stared in at
the window, and rushed away again. On every side things seemed to
change places in a general post, trees and houses, hedges and roads,
all lit by an evening moon and wrapt in a white and wavering mist. Then
the town was upon them, quite instantly; streets ran like ribbons into
grey folds of buildings; rows of lamps, scattered at first, drew into a
single point of dancing flame; towers and chimneys seemed to jump from
place to place as though they were trying to keep in time with the
train; a bell rang monotonously; wreaths of smoke rose lazily against
the stars and fell again.

When at last she found herself, a tiny figure, standing upon the vast
platform under the high black dome, the noise and confusion excited and
delighted her. She rose to the waves of sound as a swimmer rises in the
sea, her heart beat fast, and she was so eagerly engaged in looking
about her, in staring at the hurrying people, in locating the shrill
screams of the engines, in determining not to jump when the carriages
jolted together, that her little black bag opened unexpectedly once
more and spilled a