In fact, I've written to Mrs.Owen that we're coming, and I've kept this as a little surprise for you." So, after an early breakfast the next morning, they were off for the station in one of those disreputable, shaky village hacks that Dr.
Wandless always called "dark Icarian birds," with their two bags piled on the seat before them.

On the few railway journeys Sylvia remembered, she had been carried on half-fare tickets, an ignominy which she recalled with shame.

To-day she was a full-grown passenger with a seat to herself, her grandfather being engaged through nearly the whole of their hour's swift journey in a political discussion with a lawyer who was one of the college trustees.
"I told Mrs.Owen not to meet us; it's a nuisance having to meet people," said the professor when they had reached the city.

"But she always sends a carriage when she expects me." As they stepped out upon the street a station wagon driven by an old negro appeared promptly at the curb.
"Mawnin', Cap'n; mawnin'! Yo' just on time.

Mis' Sally tole me to kerry you all right up to the haouse.