Margaret was ready long before the appointed time, and had leisure enough to cry a little, quietly, when unobserved, and to smile brightly when any one looked at her. Her last alarm was lest they should be too late and miss the train; but no! they were all in time; and she breathed freely and happily at length, seated in the carriage opposite to Mr. Bell, and whirling away past the well-known stations; seeing the old south country-towns and hamlets sleeping in the warm light of the pure sun, which gave a yet ruddier colour to their tiled roofs, so different to the cold slates of the north. Broods of pigeons hovered around these peaked quaint gables, slowly settling here and there, and ruffling their soft, shiny feathers, as if exposing every fibre to the delicious warmth. There were few people about at the stations, it almost seemed as if they were too lazily content to wish to travel; none of the bustle and stir that Margaret had noticed in her two journeys on the London and North-Western line. Later on in the year, this line of railway should be stirring and alive with rich pleasure-seekers; but as to the constant going to and fro of busy tradespeople it would always be widely different from the northern lines. Here a spectator or two stood lounging at nearly every station, with his hands in his pockets, so absorbed in the simple act of watching, that it made the travellers wonder what he could find to do when the train whirled away, and only the blank of a railway, some sheds, and a distant field or two were left for him to gaze upon. The hot air danced over the golden stillness of the land, farm after farm was left behind, each reminding Margaret of German Idylls--of Herman and Dorothea--of Evangeline. From this waking dream she was roused. It was the place to leave the train and take the fly to Helstone. 
Margaret was ready long before the appointed hour. She was alarmed lest they should miss the train; but no! they were in time. She breathed freely and happily at last, seated in the carriage opposite Mr. Bell, and whirling away past old country-towns and hamlets sleeping in the warm sunlight, which gave a ruddy colour to their tiled roofs, so different to the cold slates of the north. Broods of pigeons hovered around these peaked quaint gables, ruffling their soft feathers. There were few people about at the stations; none of the bustle and stir of the London and North-Western line. A spectator or two stood lounging at nearly every station, watching the passing trains. The hot air danced over the golden stillness of the land, and farm after farm was left behind, until they stepped down from the train and took the fly to Helstone.
