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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"A Series of Letters to the Mistress of Rudder Grange from her Former Handmaiden"

My husband and I are going to Edinburgh to-morrow, and I have
looked up all the trains. There is one which leaves here at twenty
minutes past six. If she comes soon you will have time to catch it.
Have you your baggage ready?"
He looked at me as if he wondered who on earth I was, but I am sure he
saw my soul in my face and trusted me.
"Yes," he said, "she has a little bag in her bath-chair, and mine is
here."
"Here she comes," said I, "and you must fly to the station."
In a moment Angelica was with us, her face beaming with delight.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried, but I would not listen to her
gratitude. "Hurry!" I said, "or you will be too late. Joy go with
you."
They hastened off, and I walked back to the gardens. I looked at my
watch, and to my horror I saw it was five minutes past six. Fifteen
minutes left yet. Fifteen minutes in which they might be overtaken. I
stopped for a moment irresolutely. What should I do? I thought of
running after them to the station. I thought in some way I might help
them--buy their tickets or do something. But while I was thinking I
heard a rattle, and down the street came the man in livery, and
Snortfrizzle's bottle-nose like a volcano behind him. The minute they
reached me, and there was nobody else in the street, the old man
shouted, "Hi! Have you seen two bath-chairs with a young man and a
young woman in them?"
I was on the point of saying No, but changed my mind like a flash.


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