In a word, I accepted the Major's kind offer to see me quite safe in good hands in London, or else bring me straightway back again.

And I took only just things enough for a day or two, meaning to come back by the end of the week.

And I kissed Mrs.Hockin just enough for that.
It would not be a new thing for me to say that "we never know what is going to happen;" but, new or stale, it was true enough, as old common sayings of common-sense (though spurned when not wanted) show themselves.

At first, indeed, it seemed as if I were come for nothing, at least as concerned what I thought the chief business of my journey.
The Major had wished to go first to the bank, and appeared to think nothing of any thing else; but I, on the other hand, did not want him there, preferring to keep him out of my money matters, and so he was obliged to let me have my way.
I always am sorry when I have been perverse, and it seemed to serve me right for willfulness when no Betsy Bowen could be discovered either at the place which we tried first, or that to which we were sent thence.
Major Hockin looked at me till I could have cried, as much as to hint that the whole of my story was all of a piece, all a wild-goose chase.
And being more curious than ever now to go to the bank and ransack, he actually called out to the cabman to drive without delay to Messrs.
Shovelin, Wayte, and Shovelin.

But I begged him to allow me just one minute while I spoke to the servant-maid alone.