Awake my soul, and with the sun, Thy daily course of duty run--
"How stupid!" commented Rhoda to herself. "`Course of duty' on the very day we are leaving school. What a ridiculous choice!" and then she tumbled out of bed and listened no more.
The rest of the morning seemed a comical Alice-in-Wonderland repetition of the day of arrival. The same long queues were formed to march down, instead of upstairs; the teachers stood on the landings to say good-bye, instead of welcome; the "Black Marias" bore the pupils to, instead of from, the station, where the saloon carriages stood waiting as before. The Blues crowded into one carriage, and Tom seated herself by Rhoda, and with twinkling eyes called attention to the undulating beauty of the landscape. It was all exactly the same, yet delightfully different, for now there was no shyness nor restraint, but the agreeable consciousness of liberty to chaff in return, and be as cheeky as one chose.
There was unceasing talk on the journey, yet each girl realised as the train steamed into Euston that she had forgotten to say the most important things, and was divided between regret and anxiety to look out for friends waiting on the platform. Rhoda had heard that Harold was to meet her, and presently there he was--handsomer than ever, or looking so after the three months' separation, and as immaculate as if he had stepped out of the traditional bandbox.
"There he is! That's Harold! That's my brother!" she cried, with a thrill of pride in the tall, frock-coated figure; and Thomasina looked, and rolled her little eyes to the ceiling.
"What a bee-ootiful young man! A perfect picter! Give him my fond love, Fuzzy, and say that I am desolated not to be able to stay to make his acquaintance, but I must make a bolt for my train."
She seized her bag as she spoke and hurried to the door, prepared to jump on to the platform at the first possible moment, while her companions impatiently followed in her wake. Rhoda had a vague recollection of promising to write regularly to half a dozen girls, and then she was shaking hands with Harold, and laughing in pure joy at seeing the familiar face.
"Here I am! Here I am! I have come back at last!"
"So I see!" He swept a glance over her, half smiling, half startled. "Awfully glad to see you. Got your luggage in the van, eh? Don't know how on earth we shall get hold of it in this crowd. What an--excuse me!--an appalling set of girls!"