The carriage went to the station more than an hour ago.

I sit down in a window-seat that commands the park, and look along the drive by which the general went this morning.
Dear Roger! I will practise calling him "Roger" when I am by myself, and then perhaps I may be able to address him by it when he comes home.

I will say, "How are you, Roger ?" I have fallen into a pleasant reverie, with my head leaned against the curtain, in which I see myself giving glib utterance to this formula, as I stand in a blue gown--Roger likes me in blue--and a blue cap--I look older in a cap--while he precipitates himself madly-- My reverie breaks off.

Some one has entered, and is standing by me.

It is a footman, with a telegram on a salver.