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When the housekeeper appeared, breathless, I was sitting on a table, swinging the parasol and smoking angrily. "Is the car coming?" I demanded. "Yes, indeed, sir. It'll be round in a moment. What a dreadful thing to have happened, sir. I can't understand " "Neither can I, except that they're both something like our things. But look at that label. This isn't Whinnerley Hall, is it?"
I spoke as carelessly as I could, and in an undertone. "They will want to unpack your things. Also they will soon know that there is no luggage. Ours, of course, went on to Whinnerley proper. Say your maid is coming on with it by the next train, and that she will unpack when she comes." "All right." I returned to the hall. Not to be outdone by the housekeeper, the footman was most solicitous.
The label on this bag says 'Whinnerley Hall', and that's not my dressing-case. I'm not even sure that this is her ladyship's parasol." "Not not yours, sir?" "Certainly not. Beastly things." I flung them down in the hall. "Never seen them before in my life. Order the car, man; order the car. I want to take them back to the station and find out what's become of our own." The footman fled.
As I spoke, we swung through lodge gates I had never seen before, while two gardeners and a smiling woman beamed delightedly upon us. We stared at them in return. It was all wrong. This wasn't the Hall, and it wasn't Whinnerley. There was some mistake. The car must have been sent to meet somebody else somebody like us. And we I think we saw the streamer at the same moment.
The real ones can't arrive before seven. There isn't a train before then. We can slip away after tea. Whinnerley proper can't be far. Play up, my dear, play up. It's a chance in a lifetime." A wonderful light came into her eyes. "Shall we?" she whispered. "Yes, yes. Say you will." She looked away suddenly over the sunlit park. Then she spoke very slowly.
"With any luck we shall just catch the seven-ten on to Whinnerley. Remember, you're terribly upset and simply frantic about your jewellery, especially the tiara Uncle George gave you. Do you think you could cry? I should have to kiss you then." Again the faint smile. The next minute we were in the car, rushing down the avenue.
We had alighted at their station Whinnerley Bluff doubtless some new halt, built since my last visit. We were in their car. We had received cheers and smiles meant for them. We were being greeted by a banner for them set up. And we were on the point of arriving at the house lent to them for their honeymoon. Thank you. Suddenly my companion's words flashed across my mind.
"I wouldn't mind if they thought we were married, but they know we aren't." "I suppose they do." "Of course they do. Or they will." Here some children cheered as we went by. She bowed abstractedly, and I raised my hat, as in a trance. "What's this village?" I said. "Oh, Whinnerley, I suppose. No, it isn't." "Here. Where are we going?" said I.
Great, big ones these, with a star in each of them for laughter. Her nose turned up ever so slightly, and she had a little way of tilting her dainty chin, as if to keep it company. Red lips. Presently she looked at me through the smoke. "Are you going to Whinnerley?" she said. "Yes, please." "To the Hall?" "Even as you are." "How did you know?" "The sensitive bag had a label."
It was at this interesting juncture that the door opened and a footman stood in the August afternoon sunshine, touching his cap and staring fixedly down the platform. On a station lamp was 'Whinnerley Bluff'. How we got out of the train and into the car, neither of us ever knew.
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