Mrs. Ives, busy with her thoughts, stepped cheerfully along. Presently she saw a policeman walking by. She quickened her steps almost to a run and went up to him.
“My good sir,” she said, “can you tell me the way to Paddington?”
The policeman gave her directions and she walked on again.
“I wish I had asked him when the next train started for Falmouth,” she said to herself, “but perhaps he wouldn’t ha’ known. Dear heart! how hunted Clary do look! She ain’t at all a nice sort, not at all. She never wor, and she grows less so as she gets older.”
Mrs. Ives continued her walk. From Harley Street to Paddington was scarcely thirty minutes’ walk. She arrived at the great terminus soon after five o’clock, and found to her relief that a train started for Falmouth at 5.30. She took her ticket, and, as soon as ever she could, seated herself in the corner of a third-class compartment. It was cold at this hour, but Mrs. Ives was made of stern metal, and she drank in the keen air with appreciation.
“A sight better than Clara’s stifling house,” she thought.
A porter was passing and she called out to him.
“When does this train arrive at Falmouth, my good man?”
“My word—a long time! But never mind, I’ll be there in time for his tea—bless ’im!”
The porter did not know to whose tea she alluded, but did not stop to inquire.
“He allers likes his tea with me,” continued the little woman, “and he shall have it to-night with a fresh egg and a little honey. Honey agrees with him wonderful. He’s a splendid child. I love ’im better than I loves Clary. Clary takes after her father. My word, how thin and ugly she have grown! I shouldn’t be surprised if she had caught the consumption same as her father died of.”
Punctual to the moment the train steamed out of the station. Mrs. Ives settled herself comfortably in her corner, looked around her and chuckled.
“I ha’ done it now,” she thought. “I’ll talk to the little chap to-night and I’ll take him back to-morrow. I’m sorry for the pretty young lady. It’ll go hard with her and her husband returning to poverty. Well, never mind, hardships must be borne once in a way, and poverty ain’t none so bad. I ha’ tasted riches, and I’d a sight sooner have poverty.”
Mrs. Ives made a sniff of approval and flung down the window.