fficial locked the barrier.
He bolted across the line in front of the engine, just in time to take
his place at the other gateway before the rush of passengers began, and
probably never gave another thought to the three whom he had just
excluded. Left shut out on the top of the station steps, the unlucky
trio ruefully reviewed the situation.

"What _are_ we to do?" demanded Ingred breathlessly.

"Goodness only knows!" sighed Verity.

"We're in a very awkward fix!" admitted Beatrice.

They were much too far from Grovebury to make walking possible.

"I wonder Miss Giles didn't miss us!" fretted Verity, trying to throw
the blame on somebody.

"It isn't her fault--fair play to her!" urged Beatrice. "She wasn't
looking after us officially to-day, you know. On Saturdays we're
supposed to be on our own."

"I lay the blame on buns!" said Ingred. "We'd have kept with the rest of
the school if we hadn't stopped at that confectioner's."

"Well, it's no use crying over spilt milk now! What we've got to do is
to find some means of getting home. We can't stay here all day."

"I believe it's not very far to Waverley from Denscourt," ventured
Beatrice. "If we can manage to walk, I know some people who live at a
house there. I'd ask them to lend us our fares, and we could catch a
train at Waverley station."

The idea seemed feasible, and, as it was the only one that suggested
itself, they unanimously decided to adopt it. They walked down the steps
again, therefore, on to the high road, and, stopping a girl who was
passing, asked the way to Waverley.

"It's a good four miles by the road, but it's only about two by the
fields," she volunteered in reply. "I think you'd find the path. You go
down the road to the right, and turn through the first gate across a
field to a farm. Then you keep along the river bank, on the left. You
can't miss it."

To save two miles in their present predicament was a matter of
importance, and they all felt that they would greatly prefer walking
through fields to tramping along a dusty high road. Thanking their
informant, they took her advice, and set off in the direction which she
indicated. After all, the affair was rather an adventure.

"The Mortons are sure to offer us lunch when we get there," affirmed
Beatrice; "of course we shall be fearfully late home, and our people
will be getting very anxious about us, but we can't help that. I was to
have gone to a matinee of _Carmen_ this afternoon,