Part 2 (1/2)

All the heads disappeared, with different expressions of sorrow for the poor young mother, and that was all.

Not quite, though!

One bright face reappeared. A girlish hand unfastened the carriage door, and in another moment a young lady had scrambled down to the six-foot way and, with her handbag and a bundle of wraps, was making her way to an open door, from which came the sound of bitter, hysterical weeping.

”Guard, I have come to see if I can help in any way. What are you going to do?”

”There is but one way, mem. Yonder comes Jack. He's seen nothing, I'm fearing. We must put the gude leddie down at the next station, and she maun get an engine there and go seek the puir bit bairn.”

”Very well, guard. Then I will stay with this lady until we stop.” And as the old man thankfully returned to his duties and the train was quickly put in motion, she sat down and put a pair of sisterly arms round the distracted stranger.

”Let us think what we will do,” she said in her kind cheery voice, ”and let us remember that the angels have been about your little one all this time. It may not be as bad as we think.”

”We? Who are you?” asked the dazed, bewildered mother. ”I don't know you.”

”I am Hetty Saunders. I am going to London to spend the last days of my holiday with my brother. But I can spare the time to help you a little, you know. Let us forget that I am a stranger.”

And with true womanly capableness she took the management of affairs into her own hands, drawing Mrs. Hayling on to tell her all she would about her little Willie--and something, too, of Boxer, the gentle, clever Scotch collie.

Half an hour ago they had both been with her. Where were they now?

Let us go back and look at the other side of this little story--Willie and Boxer's side.

They were both of an inquiring turn of mind. This was only their second railway journey; and it was not, therefore, very wonderful that Willie's fingers and Boxer's sharp, inquisitive nose, seemed determined to examine everything.

You can guess that it was with no small relief that Mrs. Hayling saw her little son's round blue eyes grow dim with sleep, as she tucked him up--for the sixth time at least--in the thick railway rug, and told Boxer to lie down beside him.

But it was quite a long time after Willie's mouth opened, to let out some not unmusical snores, that Mrs. Hayling's thoughts were hushed into quiet dreams.

Mothers have so many things to think about and puzzle over!

About four o'clock her little son suddenly opened his eyes, and as suddenly remembered where he was.

He was wide awake!

Boxer did not like the vigorous shake that his little master gave him.

He roused himself, it is true; but when Willie climbed on to the seat and looked out of the window, he curled himself round for another nap.

Why did not his little master do the same?

”Boxer, I'm 'samed of you! How lazy you are! Come and play wid me.”

And the fat arms dragged the dog up again and held him in a tight embrace, from which there seemed no escaping.

”Mother is fast as'eep! We'll play widout her, _dis_ time,” and Willie fixed his eyes longingly upon the window-strap. Then he looked back again at his mother's white tired face.