Here he comes," and the flag paused for a few seconds.

"In you go, young gentleman." A heave, a struggle, an avalanche of baggage, and Godfrey found himself in the arms of Miss Ogilvy in a reserved first-class carriage.

From those kind supporting arms he slid gently and slowly to the floor.
"Well," said that lady, contemplating him with his back resting against a portmanteau, "you cut things rather fine." Still seated on the floor, Godfrey pulled out his watch and looked at it, then remarked that eleven minutes before he was fast asleep in bed.
"I thought as much," she said severely, "and that's why I told the maid to see if you had been called, which I daresay you forgot to arrange for yourself." "I did," admitted Godfrey, rising and buttoning his waistcoat.

"I have had a very troubled night; all sorts of things happened to me." "What have you been doing ?" asked Miss Ogilvy, whose interest was excited.
Then Godfrey, whose bosom was bursting, told her all, and the story lasted most of the way to Dover.
"You poor boy," she said, when he had finished, "you poor boy!" "I left the basket with the food behind, and I am so hungry," remarked Godfrey presently.
"There's a restaurant car on the train, come and have some breakfast," said Miss Ogilvy, "for on the boat you may not wish to eat.

I shall at any rate." This was untrue for she had breakfasted already, but that did not matter.
"My father said I was not to take meals on the trains," explained Godfrey, awkwardly, "because of the expense." "Oh! I'm your father, or rather your mother, now.