I've reared seven, and I know what
bairns like. Sit you here against me, and when the train gets out of the
station you'll see the sea and all the ships sailin' on it."

Isobel settled herself in the corner with much content. She had never
expected such luck as to secure a window-seat, and she surveyed the
ruddy cheeks and bushy eyebrows of her kindly fellow-traveller with a
broad smile of gratitude.

"Goin' to Silversands, missy?" he inquired. "Ay, it's a grand place, and
I should ought to know, for I've lived there, man and boy, for a matter
of sixty year. Where might you be a-stayin', if I may make so bold? Mrs.
Jackson! Why, she's an old friend o' mine, and will make you
comfortable, if any one can. You ask her if she knows Mr. Binks of the
White Coppice. I reckon she won't deny the acquaintance."

"Tickets ready!" cried the inspector, breaking in upon the conversation.
"Take your seats, please! All stations to Groby, Heatherton,
Silversands, and Ferndale."

There was a last stampede for places among excited passengers, a last
rush of porters with rugs and hat boxes; the guard had already unfurled
his green flag, and was in the act of putting the whistle to his lips,
when two late-comers appeared, racing in frantic haste down the
platform.

"O mother!" cried Isobel, "that lady and the little girl are going to be
left behind! It's the little girl in the blue hat, too! They were buying
papers at the bookstall. Just look how they're running! Oh, the guard's
stopping the train for them! I think they'll catch it, after all. Why,
they're coming in here!"

"Put us in anywhere--anywhere!" cried the lady in desperate tones, as
the inspector flung open the carriage door.

"Here you are, m'm!" cried the porter, seizing the little girl with
scant ceremony, and jumping her into the compartment.--"Luggage in the
front van, and the light hampers in No. 43. Thank you, m'm.--Stand back
there!"

He pocketed his tip, banged the door violently, nearly catching Isobel's
fingers thereby, the whistle sounded, and the train started off with a
jerk that almost threw the newcomers on to the lap of old Mr. Binks, who
had watched their sudden arrival with open-mouthed interest. The lady
apologized prettily, and finding room between the pierrot and a
market-woman with several large baskets, she sank down on the seat with
a sigh of relief, and taking a smelling-bottle and a large black fan
from her dressing-bag, leaned back with an air