ed. "How can I get there?"

She followed the porter as he wheeled the boxes outside the station,
where a small omnibus was waiting, and also a high spring-cart, in which
sat a well-to-do-looking farmer.

"You ain't seen no one from Waverley, Mr Oswald?" said the porter.
"This 'ere young lady expects some one to meet her."

The farmer looked thoughtfully at Anna.

"Waverley, eh," he repeated, "Vicarage?"

"Ah," said the porter, nodding.

Another long gaze.

"Well, I'm going by the gate myself," he said at last. "I reckon Molly
wouldn't make much odds of the lot," glancing at the luggage, "if the
young lady would like a lift."

"Perhaps," said Anna, hesitatingly, "I'd better have a cab, as Mrs
Forrest is not here."

"I could order you a fly at the Blue Boar," said the porter.
"'Twouldn't be ready, not for a half-hour or so. Mr Oswald 'd get yer
over a deal quicker."

No cabs! What a strange place, and how unlike London! Anna glanced
uncertainly at the high cart, the tall strawberry horse stamping
impatiently, and the good-natured, brown face of the farmer. It would
be an odd way of arriving at Waverley, and she was not at all sure that
Aunt Sarah would approve of it; but what was she to do? It was very
kind of the farmer; would he expect to be paid?

"Better come along, missie," said Mr Oswald, as these thoughts passed
rapidly through her mind. "You'll be over in a brace of shakes.--Hoist
them things in at the back, Jim."

Almost before she knew it, Anna had taken the broad hand held out to
help her, had mounted the high step, and was seated by the farmer's
side.

"Any port in a storm, eh?" he said, good-naturedly, as he put the rug
over her knees.--"All right at the back, Jim?"

A shake of the reins, and Molly dashed forward with a bound that almost
threw Anna off her seat, and whirled the cart out of the station-yard at
what seemed to her a fearful pace.

"She'll quiet down directly," said Mr Oswald; "she's fretted a bit
standing at the station. Don't ye be nervous, missie; there's not a
morsel of harm in her."

Nevertheless, Anna felt obliged to grasp the side of the cart tightly as
Molly turned into the principal street of Dornton, which was wide, and,
fortunately, nearly empty. What a quiet, dull-looking street it was,
after the noisy rattle of London, and how low and small the shops and
houses looked! If only Molly would go a little slower!

"Yonder's the church," said Mr Oswald, po