A Bicycle of Cathay - Page 88/112

It was decreed the next day that I should not leave until after

dinner. They would send me over to Blackburn Station by a cross-road,

and I could then reach Waterton in less than an hour. "There is

another good thing about this arrangement," said Miss Edith, for it

was she who announced it to me, "and that is that you can take charge

of Amy."

I gazed at her mystified, and she said, "Don't you know that Miss

Willoughby is going in the same train with you?"

"What!" I exclaimed, far too forcibly.

"Yes. Her visit ends to-day. She lives in Waterton. But why should

that affect you so wonderfully? I am sure you cannot object to an hour

in the train with Amy Willoughby. She may talk a good deal, but you

must admit that she talks well."

"Object!" I said. "Of course I don't object. She talks very well

indeed, and I shall be glad to have the pleasure of her company."

"No one would have thought so," she said, looking at me with a

criticising eye, "who had seen you when you heard she was going."

"It was the suddenness," I said.

"Oh yes," she replied, "and your delicate nerves."

In my soul I cried out to myself: "Am I ever to break free from young

women! Is there to be a railroad accident between here and Waterton!

If so, I shall save the nearest old gentleman!"

I believe the Larramies were truly sorry to have me go. Each one of

them in turn told me so. Mrs. Larramie again said to me, with tears in

her eyes, that it made her shudder to think what that home might be if

it had not been for me.

Mr. Larramie and Walter promised to get up some fine excursions if I

would stay a little longer, and Genevieve made me sit down beside her

under a tree.

"I am awfully sorry you are going," she said. "I always wanted a

gentleman friend, and I believe if you'd stay a little longer you'd be

one. You see, Walter is really too old for me to confide in, and Percy

thinks he's too old--and that's a great deal worse. But you're just

the age I like. There are so many things I would say to you if you

lived here."

Little Clara, cried when she heard I was going, and I felt myself

obliged to commit the shameful deception of talking about baby bears

and my possible return to this place.

Miss Edith accompanied us to the station, and when I took leave of her

on the platform she gave me a good, hearty handshake. "I believe that

we shall see each other again," she said, "and when we meet I want you

to make a report, and I hope it will be a good one!"