Part 7 (1/2)

Salome had the purse intrusted to her by her mother to pay expenses.

”It is better you should begin your responsibilities,” her mother had said sadly; ”and Stevens will have so much to attend to.”

Salome opened the purse and gave Raymond a sovereign.

”Another,” he said, waiting.

”That is enough. Four tickets, third cla.s.s.”

”Third cla.s.s. _I_ am not going to travel third cla.s.s, I a.s.sure you.”

”We must, Raymond; we _must_,” said Salome. ”Raymond!”

But Raymond was gone, and Salome stood laden with small parcels, while poor Stevens was counting over the boxes.

The gardener had a beautiful basket of flowers ready, and had filled a hamper with the best fruit and vegetables from the Maplestone gardens.

”I have put up a melon, Miss Wilton, and a lot of grapes. Mind how the hamper is unpacked. You'll still have some more flowers soon, for I shall be coming up to Roxburgh.”

”Perhaps we had better not, thank you, Thomas. They are not ours now, you know--nothing is ours;” and, as often happens, the sound of her own voice as she gave utterance to the sad truth was too much for her. She put her little hand into Thomas's, and said in a broken voice, ”Here comes the train! Good-bye, Thomas; good-bye.”

At this moment Reginald, who had been doing his utmost to help poor Stevens, came up.

”Now, dear Salome, make haste. Here's an empty carriage.”

”Third cla.s.s? Here you are. How many seats?” said a porter.

”_This_ way, do you hear?” Raymond called. ”This way. Stevens is to go there, and you must come with me. I've got the tickets.”

”Hallo, Wilton!” said a pleasant voice, ”where are you off to?”

”I am going to Roxburgh with my sister,” said Raymond. ”My sister--Mr.

Henry St. Clair,” said Raymond grandly. ”Get in, Salome, or you will be left behind.”

Raymond's friend took some parcels out of Salome's hand, and courteously helped her into the carriage, putting the umbrellas and cloaks up in the rack behind the seat, and settling the little parcels for her.

As the guard came to shut the door with the usual words, ”Any more going on?” Raymond said, ”Where's Reginald?” and, putting his head out, he called, ”Hallo, Reginald; you'll be left behind.”

”I am going with Stevens, third cla.s.s,” was the answer.

Raymond's brow grew dark, and he muttered something between his teeth.

”What an idiot! I've got his ticket.”

Salome, who had great difficulty in repressing the tears which the good-bye to Thomas had brought in a shower, said bravely, ”We ought all to have gone with Stevens, Raymond.”

Raymond turned away, hoping his friend would not hear, and then the two boys began to talk about Eton matters, and Salome was left to her own sad meditations. She could not help, however, hearing some of the conversation, and her surprise was unbounded when she heard Raymond say his return to Eton was uncertain, for since the ”governor's” death their plans were all unsettled. They might go abroad for the winter; at present they had taken a house near Roxburgh!

Oh, how could Raymond talk like that? and what would become of him?

Ashamed to go third cla.s.s! ashamed to say they were poor! Oh, if only Reginald had been the eldest brother, what a difference it would have made.