Читать книгу Sydney Lisle, the Heiress of St. Quentin онлайн

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The hat grew rather disarranged again in the hall over the various embracings; but Sydney did not feel as though that or anything else mattered. Somehow she stumbled, blinded with tears, to the cab, and waved a farewell to the crowd of dear faces round the well-known door. Then father said “Right—Waterloo!” and away they drove.

The hot tears rose again to Sydney’s eyes, as she recalled the scene, and blurred the page before her. Not four hours since she had said good-bye to home, but oh, how long it seemed!

The drive had been short enough; Sydney thought she would have liked to go on driving for ever, holding father’s hand, and dreamily watching blobs of mud fly up against the cab windows.

But Waterloo was reached very soon, and Mr. Fenton was outside upon the station steps, and coming forward to hand her from the cab, and regret that she had so dull a day for her journey, and wave forward a fashionably-attired personage, whom Sydney took for some distinguished traveller; but who was, it appeared, her maid, “Ward.”