ce
she first arrived there, sixteen or seventeen years ago, and she was
timorous about the very mode of travelling; and then to go back to
Hamley, which she thought never to have seen again! She never spoke much
about any feelings of her own, but Miss Monro could always read her
silence, and interpreted it into pretty just and forcible words that
afternoon when Canon Livingstone called. She liked to talk about Ellinor
to him, and suspected that he liked to hear. She was almost annoyed this
time by the comfort he would keep giving her; there was no greater danger
in travelling by railroad than by coach, a little care about certain
things was required, that was all, and the average number of deaths by
accidents on railroads was not greater than the average number when
people travelled by coach, if you took into consideration the far greater
number of travellers. Yes! returning to the deserted scenes of one's
youth was very painful . . . Had Miss Wilkins made any provision for
another lady to take her place as visitor at the school? He believed it
was her week. Miss Monro was out of all patience at his entire calmness
and reasonableness. Later in the day she became more at peace with him,
when she received a kind little note from Mrs. Forbes, a great friend of
hers, and the mother of the family she was now teaching, saying that
Canon Livingstone had called and told her that Ellinor had to go on a
very painful journey, and that Mrs. Forbes was quite sure Miss Monro's
companionship upon it would be a great comfort to both, and that she
could perfectly be set at liberty for a fortnight or so, for it would
fall in admirably with the fact that "Jeanie was growing tall, and the
doctor had advised sea air this spring; so a month's holiday would suit
them now even better than later on." Was this going straight to Mrs.
Forbes, to whom she should herself scarcely have liked to name it, the
act of a good, thoughtful man, or of a lover? questioned Miss Monro; but
she could not answer her own inquiry, and had to be very grateful for the
deed, without accounting for the motives.

A coach met the train at a station about ten miles from Hamley, and Dixon
was at the inn where the coach stopped, ready to receive them.

The old man was almost in tears at the sight of them again in a familiar
place. He had put on his Sunday clothes to do them honour; and to
conceal his agitation he kept up a pretended bustle about their luggage.
To