ss--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 tortoiseshell 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, Pussy!"

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, God 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.

Only three people got out of the 11.54. The first was a countryman with
two baskety boxes full of live chickens who stuck their russet heads
out anxiously through the wicker bars; the second was Miss Peckitt, the
grocer's wife's cousin, with a tin box and t