The depression had been at its lowest ebb as they ran into Bath. It was, however, slightly on the mend by the time Trix reached Exeter, though she was still feeling that her journey had probably, if not certainly, been a piece of pure foolishness on her part.

The carriage she was in was up in the front of the train. She was the sole occupant thereof. She now put up something akin to a prayer that she might remain in undisturbed possession. Apparently, however, the prayer was not to be granted. A tall figure, masculine in character, suddenly blocked the light from the window. Trix heaved a small sigh of patient resignation.

"Good afternoon, Miss Devereux," said a voice.

Trix looked up. Her resignation took to itself wings and fled.

"Doctor Hilary!" she exclaimed.

Doctor Hilary heaved his big form into the carriage, and turned to take a tea-basket from a porter just behind him. First tipping the said porter, he put the basket carefully on the seat.

"I've been on the lookout for you," he remarked calmly.

"Oh," said Trix, a trifle surprised.

Doctor Hilary sat down, keeping, however, one eye towards the platform.

"Yes," he continued, still calmly. "The d.u.c.h.essa happened to tell me yesterday that you were coming, and as I happened to be in Exeter to-day I thought we might as well do this bit of the journey together."

"I see," said Trix.

Doctor Hilary looked up. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked quickly.

"Mind!" echoed Trix, "I am quite delighted. I've been so bored, and rather tired, and--yes, I think quite depressed."

Doctor Hilary looked concerned.

"You poor little thing," he said. "And I suppose you have had one sandwich, and no tea. Men turn to food when they're depressed, and women think they can't eat. Honestly, there's nothing like a good meal for helping one to look on the brighter side of things."

Trix smiled first at him, and then at the tea-basket.

"Anyhow I'm to be fed now, it seems."

The train began to move slowly out of the station. Doctor Hilary gave vent to an ill-supressed sigh of relief. The train was non-stop to Brent.

He began pulling at the straps of the tea-basket.

Tea and Doctor Hilary's company had a really marvellous effect on Trix's spirits. The little pleasant occurrence _had_ happened, and quite unexpectedly.

"I'm glad you're coming down to Woodleigh," said Doctor Hilary presently.

"The d.u.c.h.essa has seemed out of sorts lately, and I fancy your coming will cheer her."

"Oh," said Trix, "you think so, too." And then she stopped.

"Who else thinks so?" queried Doctor Hilary.

"Well, Miss Tibb.u.t.t didn't seem quite satisfied about her," owned Trix.

"It was a letter from her made me come. And then I thought perhaps she'd been mistaken, and I'd been silly to think there was any need of me, and that--well, that I'd been a little officious. It's a depressing sensation," sighed Trix.

Doctor Hilary laughed.

"So that was the cause of the depression," quoth he.

Trix nodded. "It was rather silly, wasn't it?" she asked.

"I am not sure," he said.

"It was such an idiotic little thing to worry about," said Trix

Doctor Hilary looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps. But isn't it just the little things we _do_ worry over? They are so small, you know, it's difficult to handle them. It is far easier not to worry over a thing you can get a real grasp of."

Trix smiled gratefully.

"I am so glad you understand," she said. "I am always doing things on impulse. I fancy I am indispensable, I suppose, and then all at once I think what a little donkey I am to have interfered. It is so easy to think oneself important to other people's welfare when one isn't a bit."

"Aren't you?" said Doctor Hilary quietly.

"Of course not," replied Trix. There was a hint of indignation in her voice. "And please don't say I am, or else it will make me feel that you think I said what I did say just in order that you might contradict me.

Like fishing for a compliment, you know. And I didn't mean that in the least, I didn't truly."

Doctor Hilary smiled, a queer little smile.

"I know you didn't mean that. But all the same I am going to contradict you."

Trix looked up. "Oh well," she began, laughing and half resignedly. And then something in Doctor Hilary's face made her stop suddenly, her heart beating at a mad pace.

"You have become very important in my life," he said quietly. "I did not realize how important, till you went away."

Trix was silent.

"I am not very good at making pretty speeches," said Doctor Hilary steadily, "but I hope you understand exactly what I mean. You have become so important to my welfare that I should find it exceedingly difficult to go on living without you. I suppose I should do it somehow if I must, but probably I should make a very poor job of it." He stopped.

Trix gave a sudden little intake of her breath. For a moment there was a dead silence. Then:--

"Will you always feed me when I am depressed?" she asked. And there was a little quiver half of laughter, half of tears, in her voice.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS

"Yes, Tibby angel, you were quite right."

It was the sixth time Trix had made the same remark in the last half hour, and she had made it each time with the same attentive deliberation as if the words were being only once spoken, though she knew she would probably have to say them at least six times more.