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She held my pony while I telegraphed Gerald Colebridge that I could not go to California with him. Far from looking like one who had recently been crying, she looked a triumphant little creature, as she sat the one pony, and held the other. The color had all come back to her face, and she looked why, she looked happy! "Well, my dear," said my mother, "we shall miss you."
"You wanted to go to town by the 10.27 train, and I took forcible measures to prevent you. It may therefore interest you to know what became of that train, and what you have escaped. There's been a frightful collision. The down express ran into it at the curve just beyond the signal station at Colebridge Junction, owing to some mistake of the signalman, I believe.
And Lucy, just her head and fingers showing from the great coon-skin coat, would give him a look that I should not now interpret as I did then. I thought that it made her feel sick at heart even to think of his going to some far-off place without her! "Speaking of far-off places," I said once, "Gerald Colebridge is taking some men to Burlingham to play polo.
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