gratified. It was the first
time her mother had ever flatly refused to listen to her coaxings, or
had spoken to her with the least approach to severity, and such a state
of affairs was as unpleasant as it was unusual.

"She really meant it, too," sobbed Alison. "Oh, dear! What am I to do?
Dorothy'll think me such an atrocious sneak!"

CHAPTER VIII

A Short Cut

When Dorothy left Lindenlea she had exactly three minutes in which to
catch her train. Her long legs raced down the drive and along the road
to the station. Panting and out of breath, she rushed up the incline to
the little gate. The train had come in; she could see the smoke from the
engine. It generally only waited for about a minute, but there was still
time to get in, if she were extremely quick.

"Ticket, please," said the collector at the gate.

"Contract!" cried Dorothy, trying to rush past; but the man put out his
arm to bar the way.

"Show it, please; I must see all contracts," he said curtly.

Chafing at the delay, Dorothy felt in her pocket; then to her dismay she
remembered that she had left her contract at home. The officials at
Hurford and Coleminster knew her so well by sight that when once they
had seen her season ticket on the first day of the term, they never
asked to look at it again, but simply let her pass unchallenged. As she
was not required to produce it daily, she had grown careless, and often
forgot to take it with her. The collector at Latchworth had not seen her
before, and of course could not tell that she possessed a season ticket
at all.

"I've left it at home, but it's a contract between Hurford and
Coleminster. You'll find it's quite right. Please let me through. I must
catch this train," she urged.

"Can't let anyone pass without a ticket," answered the man. "If you
haven't your contract you must book an ordinary fare. Booking office is
round that corner."

Dorothy stamped with impatience.

"I haven't any money with me, and there isn't time either. Let me pass,
quick! The train's going!"

In reply, the man shut the gate and locked it.

"Can't let anybody on to the platform when the train's in motion. You'll
have to wait till the eight o'clock now," he observed, with aggravating
calm.

On the outside of the railing, Dorothy almost wept with rage. To see the
train steaming out of the station without her was too exasperating.
There would have been quite time to catch it if the collector had not
been so