would bestow with a lavish hand, believing the priceless riches of
her love to be but a humble offering upon the shrine of the loved
one.

For all this consciousness that she would be as wax in the hands of
the man she would some day love, she had much of a conviction that,
somehow, things would come right.

Beyond thanking the Almighty for the beauties of nature, sunlight,
and the happiness that danced in her veins, she did not bother
herself overmuch with public religious observances. She had a fixed
idea that, if she did her duty in life, and tried to help others to
the best of her small ability, God would, in some measure, reward
her very much as her dear father would have done, if he had been
spared; also, that, if she did ill, she would offend Him and might
be visited with some sign of His displeasure, just as her own father
might have done if he had been still on earth to advise and protect
her.

Then, all such thoughts faded from her mind; she looked out of the
carriage window as the train rushed through Didcot Junction. She
felt hungry after the meagre breakfast she had made; she remembered
the sandwiches, and, untying the greasy little parcel, was glad to
eat them. When she had finished the sandwiches, she lit another
cigarette; after smoking this, she closed her eyes the better to
reflect.

Then she remembered nothing till the calling of "Melkbridge!"
"Melkbridge!" seemed to suffuse her senses. She awoke with a start,
to find that she had reached her destination.