"It is Topsy, Olivia; you may have her"; then self-sacrificing but heart-broken, she buried her head in her mother's lap. I am rather "tear-minded," as our old nurse used to say, at any time, and I saw things through a mist for the first mile or two.
It didn't seem nearly such a long way going to the station as coming from it, but Boggley on his bicycle was there long before me and my doolie men. We got a train to wherever we were going to about five o'clock. I had some sandwiches with me, and we got tea handed in at a station. It tasted of musty straw, and Boggley said the milk wasn't safe, but the cups made up for everything. Boggley's bore the legend Forget-me-not, and mine A present for a good girl in gilt letters. About eight o'clock we came to another station—it is quite impossible to remember their ridiculous names—and got out. It was quite an important station, and the large refreshment-room had a long table set for dinner. Lining the walls of the room were tall glass cases filled with tinned meats, jam, biscuits, and other eatables, for in the Mofussil provisions are bought at the railway stations. After dinner Boggley produced a pencil and sheet of paper. "Now," he said, "we must make a list of provisions wanted." So we sat on the table and laid our heads together.
