Would you not like a cup of tea, Miss
Constance. Will you allow me to be your cavalier?'
People were beginning to arrive in expectation of the coming train, and
talk was not possible in the throng; at least, Mr. Flinders did not
make it so. At last the train swept up, and he was hurrying to find
places for the ladies, when there was a moment's glimpse of a handsome
moustached face at a smoking-carriage window. Dolores started, and had
almost exclaimed, 'Uncle Reginald;' but before the words were out of
her mouth, Mr. Flinders had drawn her on swiftly, among all the numbers
of people getting out and getting in, hurled her into a distant
carriage, handed Constance in after her, and muttering something about
forgetting an appointment, he vanished, without any of the arrangements
about foot-warmers that he had promised.
'Uncle Reginald!' again exclaimed Dolores, 'I am sure it was he!'
'Oh dear! What an escape!' answered Constance, breathless with
surprise, and settling herself with disgust and difficulty next to a
fat old farmer, as three or four more people entered and jammed them
close together.
'Who is he?' she presently whispered.
'Colonel Mohun. His regiment is at Galway. I know he talked of
getting over this winter if he possibly could; but Aunt Lily went away
before the post was come in.'
'We shall have to take great care when we get out.'
Here the train started, and conversation in undertones became
impossible, more especially as two of the farmers in the carriage were
coming back from the Smithfield Cattle Show, and were discussing the
prize oxen with all their might.
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