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Her face seemed to him to have grown harder and plainer, her smile more brazen since their Oxford meeting. But she filled up time agreeably till the quadrille was ready. She helped him to pin on the small rosette made of the Tamworth colours which marked all the dancers in the royal quadrille, and she told him that Constance Bledlow was to dance it with the Tamworths' eldest son, Lord Bletchley.
"The 5.40 stops at Winchester and Crawleigh." "I could have told you that," said Eric. "So could Bradshaw, deceased." "But fancy looking at Bradshaw, when you can persuade some one to look at it for you! . . . And you can't get anywhere in Bradshaw without going through the Severn Tunnel and waiting two hours at Bletchley. Besides, Waterloo rather loved me.
"Bletchley," said Milly, following where the pencil pointed. "What an ugly name." "It's an ugly place," said Mrs. Norton, "so perhaps it doesn't deserve a better name. And after Bletchley look again, Milly." "Rugby," said Milly, reading the names as her mother pointed, "and then Stafford, and then Crewe what a funny name, mother! and then Wigan, and then Warrington, and then Lancaster.
We take a ticket to dine with a friend in Chester or Liverpool, or to meet the hounds near Bletchley or Rugby, as calmly as we engage a cab to go a mile; we consider twenty miles an hour disgustingly slow, and grumble awfully at a delay of five minutes in a journey of a hundred miles.
Ox-en-holme, Kendal, Wind-er-mere. Oh, mother, what a long way! Why, we've got right to the top of England." "Stop a bit, Milly, and let me tell you something about these places. First of all we shall get out of the train at Bletchley, and get into another train that will go faster than the first. And it will take us past all kinds of places, some pretty and some ugly, and some big and some small.
Such a settling of legs and arms and packages there was; and in the middle of it "whew" went the whistle, and off they went away to the mountains. But they had a long way to go before they saw any mountains. First of all they had to get to Bletchley, and it took about an hour doing that.
Perhaps the effect is even greater in a slow than in an express train. But as this tunnel is curved the transition would be more complete. The station has now become important as from it diverge the Bedford line to the east, and the lines to Banbury and Oxford to the west. A branch connects Bletchley with Bedford 16.25 miles in length, with the following stations:
Constance Bledlow stepped out of the Bletchley train into the crowded Oxford station. Annette was behind her. As they made their way towards the luggage van, Connie saw a beckoning hand and face. They belonged to Nora Hooper, and in another minute Connie found herself taken possession of by her cousin. Nora was deeply sunburnt.
A few miles from Bletchley, is a forgotten, but once celebrated spot, Denbigh Hall, over which the traveller whirls without notice, yet worthy of remembrance, because it affords a name and date for tracing the march of railway enterprise. In 1838, a gap in the intended railway from London to Birmingham extended from an obscure public-house, called Denbigh Hall, to Rugby.
"Bletchley, Bletchley!" shouted Olly, jumping down off the seat. "No, my boy," said his father, catching hold of him, "we shall stop five more times before we get to Bletchley; so don't be impatient." But at last came Bletchley, and the children were lifted out into the middle of such a bustle, as it seemed to Milly.
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