all
night--that was the result of Mary's conversation with the driver, the
details of which I may spare you. Let me see, where was I? 'The driver
scratched his head,'--no,--ah, here it is! 'He was waiting downstairs to
speak to us; 'and the result of the speaking I have told you, so I'll go
on from here----

"It was so cold downstairs in the fireless, deserted house, that Mary and
I were glad to come upstairs again to the little room where we had been
sitting, which already seemed to have a sort of home-like feeling about
it. But once arrived there we looked at each other in dismay.

"'Isn't it dreadful, Mary?' I said.

"'And we shall miss the morning train from East Hornham--the only one by
which we can get through the same day--that is the worst of all,' she
said.

"'Can't we be in time? It is only two or three miles from here to East
Hornham,' I said.

"'Yes, but you forget I _must_ see Mr. Turner again. If I fix to take
this house, and it seems very likely, I must not go away without all the
particulars for father. There are ever so many things to ask. I have a
list of father's, as long as my arm, of questions and inquiries.'

"'Ah, yes,' I agreed; 'and then we have to get our bag at the hotel, and
to pay our bill there.'

"'And to choose rooms there to come to at first,' said Mary. 'Oh yes, our
getting away by that train is impossible. And then the Christmas trains
are like Sunday. Even by travelling all night we cannot get home, I fear.
I must telegraph to mother as soon as we get back to East Hornham.'

"The young woman had not returned. We were wondering what had become of
her when she made her appearance laden with everything she could think
of for our comfort. The bed, she assured us, could not be damp, as it had
been 'to the fire' all the previous day, and she insisted on putting on a
pair of her own sheets, coarse but beautifully white, and fetching from
another room additional blankets, which in their turn had to be subjected
to 'airing,' or 'firing' rather. To the best of her ability she provided
us with toilet requisites, apologising, poor thing, for the absence of
what we 'of course, must be used to,'--as she expressed it, in the shape
of fine towels, perfumed soap, and so on. And she ended by cooking us a
rasher of bacon and poached eggs for supper, all the materials for which
refection she had brought from her own cottage. She was so kind that I
shrank from suggesting to Mary the objection to