He told himself again that he was an ass; and then tried to console himself by thinking that such an occasion as this seldom happened once to any man--could hardly happen more than once to any man.
He had hired a carriage for her, not thinking it fit that Lady Ongar should be taken to her new home in a cab; and when he was at the station, half an hour before the proper time, was very fidgety because it had not come.

Ten minutes before eight he might have been seen standing at the entrance to the station looking out anxiously for the vehicle.

The man was there, of course, in time, but Harry made himself angry because he could not get the carriage so placed that Lady Ongar might be sure of stepping into it without leaving the platform.
Punctually to the moment the coming train announced itself by its whistle, and Harry Clavering felt himself to be in a flutter.
The train came up along the platform, and Harry stood there expecting to see Julia Brabazon's head projected from the first window that caught his eye.

It was of Julia Brabazon's head, and not of Lady Ongar's, that he was thinking.

But he saw no sign of her presence while the carriages were coming to a stand-still, and the platform was covered with passengers before he discovered her whom he was seeking.