But it was too late. The child had heard the word--had understood it.

She looked wildly from one to the other, then she threw herself against
the side of the chair, in a very madness of crying. Now, she pushed even
Laura away. It seemed as though at the sound of that one word she had
felt herself indeed forsaken, she had become acquainted with her grief.

Laura's eyes filled with tears.

Polly, standing at the door, spoke to her in vain.

* * * * *

"There's another train--Mr. Seaton said so!" Laura threw the words over
her shoulder as though in anger. Hubert Mason stood behind her. In her
excitement it seemed to her that he was dragging her by force from this
sobbing and shrieking misery before her.

"I don't believe he's right. I never heard of any train later than the
7.10," said Mason, in perplexity.

"Go and ask him."

Mason went away and returned.

"Of course he swears there is. You won't get Seaton to say he's mistaken
in a hurry. All I know is I never heard of it."

"He must be right," said Laura obstinately. "Don't trouble about me--send