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The Girls of St. Wode's

Page 2

by L. T. Meade


  CHAPTER II

  IN A THIRD-CLASS CARRIAGE.

  Three girls were traveling in a third-class carriage to King's Cross.The train was not an express; it stopped at nearly every station. Thecarriage in which they sat was more or less crowded with country peoplewho carried baskets, babies, feeding-bottles, and all sorts of parcels.The girls, looking bright and energetic, occupied corner seats. A womanwith a fretful baby on her knee sat near one.

  "How tired you must be!" said this girl. "Do let me hold your baby for alittle."

  As she spoke all the other passengers turned and stared at her. She wasa tall, slim, very plainly-dressed girl; her dark-blue serge dresslacked freshness, her sailor hat was decidedly the worse for wear, andher gloves had been mended in many places. The woman whom the girladdressed, glancing first at the shabby clothes, then at the kind,bright, handsome young face, decided that the girl was not very muchabove herself in the social scale, and agreed to let her hold her babyfor a bit.

  A charming color came into the girl's face as she received the smallatom of humanity on her knee. She held the baby tenderly; her young armswere strong, the little one nestled down comfortably, and the mothergave her a glance of admiration.

  "Why, I do declare, my dear," she exclaimed, "one would think you hadhalf-a-dozen of your own, you handle the little mite that knowingly!"

  "Oh, it is because I love children," replied the girl. "It is kind ofyou to let me hold your little one. Look, Marjorie, do look; hasn't itpretty little fingers; and oh, do see its tiny toes!"

  Another tall girl bent forward and began to examine the baby's feet.They were pink and very small; the girl stretched out her palm, and theother girl placed the little foot upon it.

  "You are not to take the little dear from me," said the first girl.

  "Oh, my dear Eileen, I would not deprive you of the little treasure forthe world," was the quick reply. "I know by your face you are in theseventh heaven."

  "I am, I am," replied the girl addressed as Eileen. "Oh, what a darling!It is so delicious, Marjorie, when it nestles up against you."

  The train slackened speed, drew up at a great station, and the woman,the baby, and most of the other passengers got out. The three girls nowfound themselves alone in the carriage. The girl at the distant window,the smallest of the three, turned and eagerly faced her companions.

  "Well, Eileen," she began--she shook her finger in the face of thebright, tall girl as she spoke--"if you begin that sort of thing just onthe very day when you have left school, if you will insist on wearingthose disgracefully shabby clothes, going third-class and taking us withyou, when your mother sends us money to travel first, and finallyadopting strange babies who happen to be traveling in the same carriage,you will certainly break Aunt Helen's heart."

  Eileen shrugged her shoulders.

  "Not at all," she answered. "Mother may not like it at first, but shewill soon learn to know once for all that Marjorie and I mean to followour own bent. Marjorie and I do not intend to wear gay clothes, becausewe consider finery a sheer waste of money; but as to you, Lettie, it isthe greatest pity you are not mother's own daughter. How exquisitelyneat, how smart, you look!"

  "Not smart at all, only suitably dressed," replied Letitia, bridling alittle.

  She was wearing a very correct traveling costume of dark gray; herbright wavy hair was arranged in the latest and most fashionable manner;little curls and bits of fluffy downy brightness would get out of theirconfinement and dance round her small, soft face. She was wearing theuniversal coat and skirt; but a light-blue cambric shirt and a whitesailor hat with a broad white ribbon gave distinction to her costume.Her gloves were also white, and her little shoes had smart bows andbuckles.

  "My dress is only suitable," she repeated. "Now, your dress, Eileen, isnot suitable; nor is yours, Marjorie. To wear what is not suitable isthe height of vulgarity."

  "Oh, do listen to her," said Marjorie, bursting into a hearty laugh."She is trying to scare us with those old bogy words, as if we minded.Think what it all means, Lettie, before you condemn us so severely.Mother's money is safe in my purse instead of on my person, and thedifference between third and first class means a considerable additionalso to my nice, heavy little purse. Who knows in what class we arecoming up to town? Who cares to know? Mother is certain not to meet usat King's Cross, and old Fowler will not see what class we alight from."

  "I am glad Aunt Helen has secured Fowler as her coachman," said Letitia."But, all the same," she added hastily, "you both do look disgracefullyshabby."

  "Well, Lettie," said Marjorie, "I don't feel shabby, which is the mainthing. What can be the matter with this serviceable dress? It is verystrong and won't tear, and is the sort which does not crumple much."

  "It is all over grease," replied Letitia; "spots of grease here, there,and everywhere. And, oh, your gloves--there is absolutely a hole in thethumb of the one on your left hand. It is too disgraceful!"

  "My gloves suit my character," replied Marjorie.

  She looked at her sister; they both sat back in their seats and indulgedin hearty girlish laughter. They were very like one another; the samedark, handsome eyes beamed out of each face, the same good arched brows,the same hair, thick and straight, very dark in color, but cropped towithin an inch of their respective heads. They had clear, goodcomplexions. Plenty of color brightened each pair of healthycheeks--their lips were beautifully formed and they had snow-white pearlyteeth. And yet these two girls, partly because of their dress, were notlooked at twice during that journey, whereas Letitia was the cynosure ofmany admiring eyes.

 

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