Mr. Darbie asked
her to get out and stand at the end of one of the roads to keep the poor
little things from running down it.

"We shan't get to Seacombe till nightfall," grumbled the old man when at
last he had got the pair into two sacks, and had fastened them up securely
on the tail-board of the van.

"And I've got to catch the five o'clock train from there," said one of the
passengers sourly. "If ever you want to be a little bit earlier than
usual, you're bound to be later. It's always the way."

Old John Darbie always recovered his temper when other people had lost
theirs. He realised how foolish they looked and sounded. "Aw, don't you
worry, missus," he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"She'll wait for me. They wouldn't let no train start 'fore me and my
passengers was in!"

All the rest of the passengers laughed, Mona too, at which the sour-faced
woman glared at them angrily. Then they jogged on again, and by that time
Mona had recovered sufficiently to be able to take more interest in her
surroundings.

She noticed that the woman beside her, and the woman opposite her, were
looking her up and down, and she felt very glad that she had on her best
hat and dress. She did wish, though, that she had mended the hole in her
gloves, for one of the women seemed more attracted by them than by
anything else, and it was really rather embarrassing. She longed to put
her hands behind her back to hide them, but that would have looked too
pointed; so, instead, she turned round and looked out of the window,
pretending to be lost to everything but the view.

It was a very pretty road that they were travelling, but very hilly,
and Lion's pace grew, if possible, even slower. One or two of the
passengers complained loudly, but Mona was enjoying herself thoroughly
now. To her everything was of interest, from the hedges and the ploughed
fields, just showing a tinge of green, to the cottages and farms they
passed here and there. To many people each mile would have seemed just
like the last, but to Mona each had a charm of its own. She knew all the
houses by sight, and knew the people who dwelt in some of them, and when
by and by the van drew near to Seacombe, and at last, between a dip in the
land, she caught her first glimpse of the sea, her heart gave a great
leap, and a something caught in her throat. This was home, this was her
real home. Mona knew it now, if she had never realised it before.

At