Salome had the purse intrusted to her by her mother to pay expenses.

"It is better you should begin your responsibilities," her mother had said sadly; "and Stevens will have so much to attend to."

Salome opened the purse and gave Raymond a sovereign.

"Another," he said, waiting.

"That is enough. Four tickets, third cla.s.s."

"Third cla.s.s. _I_ am not going to travel third cla.s.s, I a.s.sure you."

"We must, Raymond; we _must_," said Salome. "Raymond!"

But Raymond was gone, and Salome stood laden with small parcels, while poor Stevens was counting over the boxes.

The gardener had a beautiful basket of flowers ready, and had filled a hamper with the best fruit and vegetables from the Maplestone gardens.

"I have put up a melon, Miss Wilton, and a lot of grapes. Mind how the hamper is unpacked. You'll still have some more flowers soon, for I shall be coming up to Roxburgh."

"Perhaps we had better not, thank you, Thomas. They are not ours now, you know--nothing is ours;" and, as often happens, the sound of her own voice as she gave utterance to the sad truth was too much for her. She put her little hand into Thomas's, and said in a broken voice, "Here comes the train! Good-bye, Thomas; good-bye."

At this moment Reginald, who had been doing his utmost to help poor Stevens, came up.

"Now, dear Salome, make haste. Here's an empty carriage."

"Third cla.s.s? Here you are. How many seats?" said a porter.

"_This_ way, do you hear?" Raymond called. "This way. Stevens is to go there, and you must come with me. I've got the tickets."

"Hallo, Wilton!" said a pleasant voice, "where are you off to?"

"I am going to Roxburgh with my sister," said Raymond. "My sister--Mr.

Henry St. Clair," said Raymond grandly. "Get in, Salome, or you will be left behind."

Raymond's friend took some parcels out of Salome's hand, and courteously helped her into the carriage, putting the umbrellas and cloaks up in the rack behind the seat, and settling the little parcels for her.

As the guard came to shut the door with the usual words, "Any more going on?" Raymond said, "Where's Reginald?" and, putting his head out, he called, "Hallo, Reginald; you'll be left behind."

"I am going with Stevens, third cla.s.s," was the answer.

Raymond's brow grew dark, and he muttered something between his teeth.

"What an idiot! I've got his ticket."

Salome, who had great difficulty in repressing the tears which the good-bye to Thomas had brought in a shower, said bravely, "We ought all to have gone with Stevens, Raymond."

Raymond turned away, hoping his friend would not hear, and then the two boys began to talk about Eton matters, and Salome was left to her own sad meditations. She could not help, however, hearing some of the conversation, and her surprise was unbounded when she heard Raymond say his return to Eton was uncertain, for since the "governor's" death their plans were all unsettled. They might go abroad for the winter; at present they had taken a house near Roxburgh!

Oh, how could Raymond talk like that? and what would become of him?

Ashamed to go third cla.s.s! ashamed to say they were poor! Oh, if only Reginald had been the eldest brother, what a difference it would have made.

Raymond got out at the junction, where they had to wait for the up-train, to smoke a cigar. His friend did not accompany him, and he and Salome were left together. With ready tact he saw that she would prefer silence to conversation, and he only asked her if she would like the window quite closed, as it was so damp, picked up a flower which had fallen from Thomas's basket, and then unfolded a newspaper.

The next minute a young man looked in at the window and said, "I thought I saw you at Fairchester. How are you, old fellow?"

"All right. Where are you bound for?"

"I am going down into Cornwall till term begins. I say, there's Wilton!

As much side on as ever, I suppose. Bragging as usual, eh?"

Henry St. Clair tried to make it evident by a sign that remarks about Raymond were to be stopped.

"Never was such a fellow for brag. I have been staying near Fairchester, and I heard the other day that the whole family were left without a farthing and heaps of debts. Is it true?"

"I don't know," said Henry St. Clair. "Have you seen Barnard lately?"

"No. What makes you ask? I say, St. Clair, what's up?"

"The _up_-train. Now we are off. Here comes Wilton."

Raymond came sauntering up, and knocking the ashes from his cigar, threw it away.

"You extravagant fellow!" St. Clair exclaimed.

"Well, I can't smoke here, can I?"

"You ought not to smoke at all, according to Eton rules," exclaimed the other boy, as he ran away to take his place in another part of the train.

"Where did Harrington come from?"

"He has been staying near Fairchester, he says," St. Clair replied carelessly, and then he began to read his paper.

"Near Fairchester!" thought Raymond; "then he will have heard all about us. Whom can he have been staying with, I wonder? How stupid Salome is sitting there like a dummy when she might talk, as she can talk sometimes, and be agreeable. One can't go about the world airing one's pauperism; it's such nonsense."

The rest of the journey pa.s.sed without much conversation. The Wiltons were to get out at a small station where there was a junction of two miles to Roxburgh. Henry St. Clair was going on to Harstone. He helped Salome, and even said to Raymond, "Here, take your sister's bag and umbrella, Wilton."

Reginald and Stevens were behind at the van watching the piles of boxes turned out, and Stevens was nervously counting them.

Henry St. Clair bid Salome a pleasant good-bye, and she felt his kind attentions in contrast to Raymond's indifference.

"What a nice little thing that sister of Wilton's is!" Henry St. Clair thought, as the train moved off and he caught sight of Salome's slight figure standing by Stevens and the luggage which was to be carried across to another platform for the Roxburgh train. "A nice little thing!

And what a selfish brute Wilton is; such a cad, too, with his big talk--while she is so different. I wonder whether it is true what Harrington has heard. I will ask Barnard. He comes from those parts, and is sure to know. I'll ask him."

The drizzling rain had turned into a regular down-pour, when at last Stevens and her boxes were safely stowed away in the omnibus, and Salome and her brothers filled a cab, with small parcels, baskets, and rugs at the Roxburgh station.

"Where shall I drive, sir?" asked the cabman as he prepared to mount to his seat.

"What's the name of the house?" said Raymond. "Salome, where are we to drive?"

"I--I--don't quite know," said poor Salome. "How stupid of me!--Reginald, can you remember?"