Part 45 (1/2)

”Good morning to you, Missie, and many of them! I wish you joy, that I do!”

”Oh!” said Bobbie to herself, and her heart quickened its beats, ”something IS going to happen! I know it is--everyone is so odd, like people are in dreams.”

The Station Master wrung her hand warmly. In fact he worked it up and down like a pump-handle. But he gave her no reason for this unusually enthusiastic greeting. He only said:--

”The 11.54's a bit late, Miss--the extra luggage this holiday time,”

and went away very quickly into that inner Temple of his into which even Bobbie dared not follow him.

Perks was not to be seen, and Bobbie shared the solitude of the platform with the Station Cat. This tortoisesh.e.l.l lady, usually of a retiring disposition, came to-day to rub herself against the brown stockings of Bobbie with arched back, waving tail, and reverberating purrs.

”Dear me!” said Bobbie, stooping to stroke her, ”how very kind everybody is to-day--even you, p.u.s.s.y!”

Perks did not appear until the 11.54 was signalled, and then he, like everybody else that morning, had a newspaper in his hand.

”Hullo!” he said, ”'ere you are. Well, if THIS is the train, it'll be smart work! Well, G.o.d bless you, my dear! I see it in the paper, and I don't think I was ever so glad of anything in all my born days!” He looked at Bobbie a moment, then said, ”One I must have, Miss, and no offence, I know, on a day like this 'ere!” and with that he kissed her, first on one cheek and then on the other.

”You ain't offended, are you?” he asked anxiously. ”I ain't took too great a liberty? On a day like this, you know--”

”No, no,” said Bobbie, ”of course it's not a liberty, dear Mr. Perks; we love you quite as much as if you were an uncle of ours--but--on a day like WHAT?”

”Like this 'ere!” said Perks. ”Don't I tell you I see it in the paper?”

”Saw WHAT in the paper?” asked Bobbie, but already the 11.54 was steaming into the station and the Station Master was looking at all the places where Perks was not and ought to have been.

Bobbie was left standing alone, the Station Cat watching her from under the bench with friendly golden eyes.

Of course you know already exactly what was going to happen. Bobbie was not so clever. She had the vague, confused, expectant feeling that comes to one's heart in dreams. What her heart expected I can't tell--perhaps the very thing that you and I know was going to happen--but her mind expected nothing; it was almost blank, and felt nothing but tiredness and stupidness and an empty feeling, like your body has when you have been a long walk and it is very far indeed past your proper dinner-time.