The morning had been unreal, like a dream. They all had a kind of Sunday-manner towards the one who was to leave them. Mother packed for Sydney; Mildred mended her gloves so beautifully that one could not see where the mend was; old nurse came and brushed out the mane of fine brown hair, combed back loosely from the small face and tied at the back of the neck with ribbon; and Freddie rushed out to the nearest flower-shop to buy her a bunch of violets to wear on the journey. He even bore with calmness the hug with which she received them, though in general he objected strongly to such demonstrations from anyone but mother. Father was to take her to the station, and she had her last words with mother in her little bedroom. “Be a good girl, my darling, and try as well to be a cheerful one. I know this is a hard thing for you, but God doesn’t call us to do anything that is too hard for us. Be brave, my little Sydney, and make the best, in every sense, of this new life. God bless you, my darling!” “I will try, mother,” said poor Sydney,[33] choking back her tears, and then father called that the cab had come, and mother put the girl’s hat straight, and down they went. [33] 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.” [34] [34] Poor Sydney faltered,
Prev.
Back
Top