In fact, he had looked at twenty very much as he looked at sixty, lacking a little of the grayness.
When he reached Bright River there was no sign of any train; he thought he was too early, so he tied his horse in the yard of the small Bright River hotel and went over to the station house.

The long platform was almost deserted; the only living creature in sight being a girl who was sitting on a pile of shingles at the extreme end.

Matthew, barely noting that it WAS a girl, sidled past her as quickly as possible without looking at her.

Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and expression.

She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main.
Matthew encountered the stationmaster locking up the ticket office preparatory to going home for supper, and asked him if the five-thirty train would soon be along.
"The five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago," answered that brisk official.