The engine shrieked an unearthly "Good-by!" and the train rumbled away, leaving Hilda gazing after it through a mist which only her strong will prevented from dissolving in tears.
"Well, my dear," said Dame Hartley's cheery voice, "your papa's gone, and you must not stand here and fret after him.

Here is old Nancy shaking her head, and wondering why she does not get home to her dinner.
Do you get into the cart, and I will get the station-master to put your trunk in for us." Hilda obeyed in silence; and climbing into the neat wagon, took her seat and looked about her while Dame Hartley bustled off in search of the station-master.

There was not very much to look at at Glenfield station.
The low wooden building with its long platform stood on a bare spot of ground, from which the trees all stood back, as if to mark their disapproval of the railway and all that belonged to it.

The sandy soil made little attempt to produce vegetation, but put out little humps of rock occasionally, to show what it could do.

Behind, a road led off into the woods, hiding itself behind the low-hanging branches of chestnut and maple, ash and linden trees.