You must inquire into it."
At that moment a porter came up.
"Did you give up your ticket, sir?" he asked Herbert.
"I hadn"t time to get one," said Herbert, quite at his ease. "I"ll pay now," and he began to feel in his pockets.... The train moved out of the station.
A look of horror came over Herbert"s face. I knew what it meant. He hadn"t any money on him. "Hi!" he shouted to me, and then we swung round a bend out of sight....
Well, well, he"ll have to get home somehow. His watch is only nickel and his cigarette case leather, but luckily that sort of thing doesn"t weigh much with station-masters. What they want is a well- known name as a reference. Herbert is better off than I was: he can give them MY name. It will be idle for them to pretend that they have never heard of me.
THE DOCTOR
"May I look at my watch?" I asked my partner, breaking a silence which had lasted from the beginning of the waltz.
"Oh, HAVE you got a watch?" she drawled. "How exciting!"
"I wasn"t going to show it to you," I said, "But I always think it looks so bad for a man to remove his arm from a lady"s waist in order to look at his watch--I mean without some sort of apology or explanation. As though he were wondering if he could possibly stick another five minutes of it."
"Let me know when the apology is beginning," said Miss White.
Perhaps, after all, her name wasn"t White, but, anyhow, she was dressed in white, and it"s her own fault if wrong impressions arise.
"It begins at once. I"ve got to catch a train home. There"s one at 12.45, I believe. If I started now I could just miss it."
"You don"t live in these Northern Heights then?"
"No. Do you?"
"Yes."
I looked at my watch again.
"I should love to discuss with you the relative advantages of London and Greater London," I said; "the flats and cats of one and the big gardens of the other. But just at the moment the only thing I can think of is whether I shall like the walk home. Are there any dangerous pa.s.ses to cross?"
"It"s a nice wet night for a walk," said Miss White reflectively.
"If only I had brought my bicycle."
"A watch AND a bicycle! You ARE lucky!"
"Look here, it may be a joke to you, but I don"t fancy myself coming down the mountains at night."
"The last train goes at one o"clock, if that"s any good to you."
"All the good in the world," I said joyfully. "Then I needn"t walk."
I looked at my watch. "That gives us five minutes more. I could almost tell you all about myself in the time."
"It generally takes longer than that," said Miss White. "At least it seems to." She sighed and added, "My partners have been very autobiographical to-night."
I looked at her severely.
"I"m afraid you"re a Suffragette," I said.
As soon as the next dance began I hurried off to find my hostess. I had just caught sight of her, when--
"Our dance, isn"t it?" said a voice.
I turned and recognized a girl in blue.
"Ah," I said, coldly cheerful, "I was just looking for you. Come along."
We broke into a gay and happy step, suggestive of twin hearts utterly free from care.
"Why do you look so thoughtful?" asked the girl in blue after ten minutes of it.
"I"ve just heard some good news," I said.
"Oh, do tell me!"
"I don"t know if it would really interest you."
"I"m sure it would."
"Well, several miles from here there may be a tram, if one can find it, which goes n.o.body quite knows where up till one-thirty in the morning probably. It is now," I added, looking at my watch (I was getting quite good at this), "just on one o"clock and raining hard.
All is well."
The dance over, I searched in vain for my hostess. Every minute I took out my watch and seemed to feel that another tram was just starting off to some unknown destination. At last I could bear it no longer and, deciding to write a letter of explanation on the morrow, I dashed off.
My instructions from Miss White with regard to the habitat of trams (thrown in by her at the last moment in case the train failed me) were vague. Five minutes" walk convinced me that I had completely lost any good that they might ever have been to me. Instinct and common sense were the only guides left. I must settle down to some heavy detective work.
The steady rain had washed out any footprints that might have been of a.s.sistance, and I was unable to follow up the slot of a tram conductor of which I had discovered traces in Two-hundred-and- fifty-first Street. In Three-thousand-eight-hundred- and-ninety-seventh Street I lay with my ear to the ground and listened intently, for I seemed to hear the ting-ting of the electric car, but nothing came of it; and in Four-millionth Street I made a new resolution. I decided to give up looking for trams and to search instead for London--the London that I knew.
I felt pretty certain that I was still in one of the Home Counties, and I did not seem to remember having crossed the Thames, so that if only I could find a star which pointed to the south I was in a fair way to get home. I set out to look for a star; with the natural result that, having abandoned all hope of finding a man, I immediately ran into him.
"Now then," he said good-naturedly.
"Could you tell me the way to--" I tried to think of some place near my London--"to Westminster Abbey?"
He looked at me in astonishment. His feeling seemed to be that I was too late for the Coronation and too early for the morning service.